


Annie Fading Fast

by simplygrimly



Series: Terror In Tennessee [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Captivity, Conditioning, F/M, Trauma Bonding, Whump, lady whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-16
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28105494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplygrimly/pseuds/simplygrimly
Summary: Annie's slow descent into Herschel's world; how she became Songbird.This is a series of flashbacks and small moments for Songbird (real name Annie) fromHershey's Kisses.Character's from Lonesomehunter'sThe Devil's Highwayappear in some flashbacks!Music:Songbird's PlaylistHerschel & Songbird's Playlist
Relationships: Herschel Boone/Songbird
Series: Terror In Tennessee [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058315
Kudos: 2





	1. Stealing Annie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The kidnapping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Lady whumpee, kidnapping, manhandling, intimate whumper, choking, sadistic whumper
> 
> [RECORD: Love You, Love A Riddle by Pepper Proud](https://open.spotify.com/track/32WyERz4lmPw357VdYfR19?si=JXMx4LDRSRq6PTEosV5yCQ)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=TJS1J-zWRfK52PqYc4Nt-Q)

Herschel absentmindedly browsed the little bookshelf in front of the second-hand shop on main street, killing time as Cheyenne and Josiah took their sweet time digging through every nook and cranny of the town’s only thrift store. He didn’t often join them on these outings, he preferred to stay at home and keep out of sight out of mind, enjoyed the quiet that his frighteningly distant lifestyle had come to provide as the residents of the little town came to realize that if they left him alone he would leave them alone. 

A light, carefree laugh rang through the air, somehow rising above the sounds of everything else around them, and caught his attention. He looked over, icy blue eyes narrowed as he tried to pinpoint the sound, and froze when he saw her. Herschel watched her smile at whoever was talking to her, auburn curls bouncing playfully as the sun illuminated her olive skin and the spatter of reddish freckles that reached playfully down her cheeks, spreading down her neck and over her chest and shoulders. Herschel stood taller as his chest tightened, his fingers twitching in his pocket as he watched her happily interacting with the woman who owned the little boutique, her hands gracefully fluttering over the brightly colored fabrics hanging from the rack of dresses in front of the shop windows. As if she could sense him, Songbird looked over her shoulder and her warm, honey brown eyes met his. Her smile spread a bit wider, her expression almost inviting him to come chat with her. He could feel her like the sunshine, warm and welcoming, soft and gentle despite demanding that the world pay attention to her every movement. 

He looked away for a moment, glanced into the front of the thrift shop to see Josiah haggling with the clerk over a pile of what looked like junk on the counter and Cheyenne admiring some folksy sweater that he knew she’d never wear in a mirror in the back. Neither of them seemed to be in any hurry, they never were when they started picking through other people’s cast offs, and Herschel knew that if he waited for them he would lose the ray of summer sun calling to him from across the street. 

He fiddled with the keys in his pocket, quickly running through logistics in his mind. Josiah had driven himself to town, he had his ridiculous Trans Am parked down the street, he could take Cheyenne home when they were finished. Neither would be particularly happy with him but Herschel never gave much thought to that anyway… He had cleaned out the truck recently, he had more than enough room to shove her into the front passenger side, she was small and seemed like the type to freeze up in fear… Herschel looked over again, watching how she moved in an effort to guess how easy she would be to subdue with nothing prepared. It wasn’t like him to act on impulse, but he couldn’t get the thought out of his mind. 

The woman moved gracefully, oblivious to Herschel’s sharp gaze as she fluttered as easily as a butterfly from one moment to the next, her every move airy and delicate and enticing. She seemed so out of place on the painfully boring main stretch of town, and yet somehow fit in like she had been there his entire life, just waiting to be seen. She glanced up at him again, her cheeks flushed immediately as she stared, their eyes locked together for a brief moment before she looked at the ground and said something to one of the people nearby. 

Herschel watched closely as she said quick goodbyes, affectionately hugging the women still fawning over the dresses the boutique owner was holding up for them, and separated from the group. He cast one last glance into the thrift shop, rolled his eyes at Josiah arguing more intently with the shop clerk, and set his jaw. He felt as if something in him was moving on it’s own, sending him down the street, following her from the other side of the road as his eyes tracked her like a deer moving through a hunter’s sight. 

Fate was on his side it seemed, as she turned down the same side street that his truck was parked on, moving into the shadows of the buildings away from the populace of their little town. Herschel walked faster, easily gaining on her as she strolled leisurely through the summer afternoon, enjoying the cool reprieve from the southern sun. He could hear her humming as he got closer, a solemn tune that seemed oddly out of place and yet comforting despite the smile that he still caught glimpses of as she absentmindedly looked from one building to the next.

He was within arms reach of her as she approached his truck and Herschel’s lips quirked in a small smile as she seemed to walk right into his impulsively laid out trap. In a well practiced flash of motion, Herschel reached forward and grabbed her. His hand instinctively covered her mouth, catching the cry of surprise and muffling the ensuing desperate screams for help as his other arm wrapped around her torso - pinning her arms to her side - and lifted her off the ground as he turned and slammed her against the side of his truck. 

He could feel the air leave her lungs with the impact, felt her deflate a bit as pain lurched through her chest at his weight pinning her against the cold steel. His lips brushed the outer shell of her ear as he whispered in a low, gravelly tone, “I’m goin’ to take my hand away from yer mouth to open the door, if ya scream - if ya make even a single sound - I will kill ya, do ya understand?” 

He waited as his words processed through her panic, felt her swallow before she nodded, and tightened his grip on her face for a moment before slowly pulling his hand away from her mouth. 

“Please,” she breathed as he reached for the handle to the truck door, “please, my daddy is a pastor at a church up the county road, he’ll worry if I’m not home. Just - please -” her voice was lost in a choked sob as he wrenched the door open and shoved her into the passenger seat. 

He grabbed her hard by the throat, silencing her with a menacing squeeze before he spoke again. “Listen to me, girl -”

“Annie,” she sobbed desperately. “Please, my name is Annie, please don’t do this.”

Herschel nodded, “Annie. Listen to me, Annie. Do what I tell ya, don’t give me no trouble, and I won’t kill ya.” He stared for a moment, his gaze seemed to burn through whatever fight she seemed to have as she cowered in his grip. “We clear?”

Annie nodded miserably and tears slipped down her face as Herschel slammed the truck door closed, the heavy sound of metal colliding with metal seemingly separating her from the life she knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	2. "Last Chance, Mutt"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EXPLICIT NSFW, NONCON
> 
> Annie and Big Boy suffer through a night in the mountains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT! Noncon, extremely dubcon, threats of noncon, threats with knives, threats of violence, forced noncon between victims, forced dubcon between victims, human slavery, trauma bonding, intense feelings of guilt, guilt at forgiveness, traumatic emotional distress, numbness after trauma, intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, violent whumper, lady whump
> 
> Josiah Blevins and Big Boy belong to Lonesomehunter's [The Devil's Highway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23187187/chapters/55504210)
> 
> [RECORD: Good Night Heart by My Bubba](https://open.spotify.com/track/33qjT2VExKMMVOety5ZJOZ?si=cXOtXQ0FS_mDVPXcytnWuQ)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=TJS1J-zWRfK52PqYc4Nt-Q)

The woods were quiet, unnaturally lacking the noise normally created by the wildlife that usually filled the trees and the underbrush. But the stillness that seemed to follow Herschel and Josiah was almost surreal as Annie looked into the trees for any signs of life. It seemed that the wildlife could sense the evil that walked slowly through their little world, that they had the good sense to hide lest the cousins find a way to subject another innocent soul to their whims. She trailed behind Herschel, careful to stay nearby but wary of getting close enough to be in arms reach, all too familiar with how quickly his moods changed and how suddenly his focus would turn to making sure she was miserable.

Despite Josiah’s place at the front of the group, Big Boy walked at the far back behind Annie. He watched her with sharp eyes, occasionally holding a hand out to her to help her climb over felled trees or make her way down steeper parts of the path. When she hesitated at the freezing stream, her eyes going wide as Josiah and Herschel walked through the knee deep water without hesitation, Big Boy simply lifted her in his arms, balancing the weight of the pack on his back with her slight frame against his chest, and carried her to the other side, setting her down gently on the dry ground.

She couldn’t help but notice the furrow to Herschel’s brow as he glanced back at them, his eyes cut through the comfort of Big Boy’s kindness like a razor. But the more she tried to make herself smaller in an effort to draw less attention to herself, the more Big Boy seemed to take pity on her. Each small act of kindness earned her a withering glance from Herschel, the dread that she felt in the face of his disapproval only matched by the uncertainty that his silence fueled in the pit of her stomach.

When the sun finally began to set, hovering over the crest of the mountain as a chill settled in the air around them, Josiah and Herschel found a spot they both liked to make camp. Annie sat to the side and watched the men, only moving to offer assistance when Herschel set up the campfire stove and demanded Big Boy pull food from the pack he had been shouldering for them. She cooked dinner in silence, grateful for the lack of attention as she focused on searing the fish that they had caught earlier that day, eager to finish so that she could lay down to sleep.

A familiar feeling of satisfaction tingled in her hands as she watched them eat, focused for a moment on the familiar feeling of a successful family dinner, ignoring the sad thought that lingered in the back of her mind reminding her that she’d never feed her family that way again. Herschel caught her gaze and said a soft thank you, his eyes kind and grateful for a moment before he turned back to Josiah and the wolfish smile returned to his face. It was enough to ease the anxiety in Songbird’s stomach, his brief moment of approval all the reassurance that she needed that she wouldn’t be left lifeless in the woods when the trip was over.

She took the thin blanket Herschel had laid aside for her and curled up off to the side, close enough to stay in the warm orange ring of light from the fire but far enough away that Herschel and Josiah would have to physically move to reach her, giving her ample warning if their moods shifted at some point during the night. She woefully underestimated the power of the cold air, shivering as she fell into a restless sleep with the blanket pulled up under her chin and her body curled into a tight ball.

Big Boy glanced at her, his face pulled into a grimace as he looked pleadingly to Herschel. They all knew that she would freeze if he didn’t give her at least another blanket, but Herschel pointedly ignored him and Big Boy knew better than to ask Josiah for anything when he wasn’t sure of what price he’d pay. He set his jaw and moved closer to Annie, watching the two men by the fire cautiously. When neither made a move to stop him, Big Boy laid down behind Annie and pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around her in order to transfer as much of his body heat to her as possible. 

It wasn’t long before Josiah grinned and nudged Herschel’s foot with his own. The both looked over at the pair, the family resemblance uncanny as their expressions took on the same predatory look that sent a chill down Big Boy’s spine. “It looks like my mutt made friends with your little bird, cuz,” Josiah’s voice had a dangerous edge and Big Boy cringed a little as he spat on the ground. His hungry eyes never left his prey, like a hawk staring down a field mouse before it swooped in with bared talons.

Herschel threw an empty beer can at them, the aluminum bounced off Big Boy’s shoulder and rolled into the darkness with an ominously out of place metallic sound. “I don’ give a shit. If he likes ‘er so much he can have ‘er, don’ matter to me none.” He cast one more dangerous glance in their direction and smiled at Josiah, “She’s yours for the night, cuz. Break ‘er in a little for me. She’s been spoiled today anyway.”

Josiah nodded and stared into the fire, the orange and yellow light cast baleful shadows over his face that made Big Boy’s stomach churn with fear. He pulled Annie closer, hoping that he could somehow shield her from whatever wicked thoughts Josiah was having as he watched the flames jump and stretch from the makeshift stone fire pit. The vibrant hues of heat and hunger reflected greedily in his eyes, prompting Big Boy to look away from Josiah and tuck his face into Annie’s curls, grateful for even a moment of distraction from the distinct suspicion that Josiah was literally the devil incarnate and he was the unfortunate soul who had earned his ire. 

She moved gently against him and he tightened his arms around her, afraid of what would happen if she moved from her place on the ground beside him as she pulled herself out of her sleepy haze. The small sound that slipped from her lips as she slowly registered his grip on her torso made Big Boy’s stomach clench as he glanced at Josiah, unable to miss the way the redhead perked up and his grin widened.

“Bring her over here, Big Boy. I wanna get a closer look at my new toy.” He rubbed his hands together, licking his lips with a dangerous grin. Big Boy didn’t move, his grip on Annie’s significantly smaller frame iron clad as his mouth went dry at the thought of Josiah’s dirt stained hands touching her. He suppressed a shiver as Josiah narrowed his bright green eyes at him, he was all too aware of how thin the man’s patience was but he wasn’t willing to hand Annie over to him. If there was anything Big Boy knew without a doubt, it was that Josiah had no limits to his brutality and he feared that he would break Annie in a way that was impossible to repair.

“I’m not playin’ mutt,” Josiah growled at him, his voice mingling with the crackling of the fire as it slithered across the campsite like a poisonous snake. Big Boy didn’t move, electing instead to ask Josiah for mercy with a pointed glance back to Annie.

She shifted slightly against him, awake enough to turn over and look from Josiah to Herschel as realization dawned on her and she tensed in his arms. The red head laced his fingers together and leaned forward, the warm glow of the campfire cast a sinister glow over the slow curl of his lips. “Alright mutt, you’ve been good today. Maybe you should get a treat, yeah?”

Big Boy frowned, leery of the sudden change in Josiah’s voice, skeptical of the hint of kindness that flowed like the promise of a snake oil salesman. His fist closed around Annie’s shirt, gripping the fabric at her waist tightly as he braced himself for whatever horrifying idea had come to Josiah’s mind. His eyes flicked to Herschel, for a moment almost hopeful that he would be possessive enough of Annie to put a stop to whatever was about to happen, but the flickering light of the fire broke through the shadows cast over his features just long enough for Big Boy to see the cool detachment and sadistic curiosity that played across his face. 

“I think,” Josiah paused as he ran his hand through his hair, his lips quirked in an almost playful smirk, “that you deserve to get the first bite of her tonight. How’s that sound, mutt?” Big Boy’s stomach dropped and bile rose in the back of his throat upon realizing that his attempts to protect Annie had only forced him to be the one to harm her. His eyes widened and Josiah’s grin stretched over his face, taking on an almost maniacal cheshire cat quality that did nothing to ease Big Boy’s worries as Annie lay frozen with fear against his chest. “You know what I want boy, best get to it before I decide to do it myself.”

Annie moved to try to sit up, panic finally setting in and triggering her instinct to get away from the _much_ larger man holding her. But Big Boy’s grip didn’t loosen and he kept her pinned in place with his arm, pressing just enough of his weight into her torso that she couldn’t do more than prop herself up on her forearms. The light of the fire danced across her chest but didn’t quite reach her face, the dread that had crept into her features hidden by the ominous darkness that he settled into the woods around them. Big Boy thanked God for the shadows, sure that Annie had been touched by grace itself as the moonless sky hid her fear from Josiah’s voracious gaze. 

Josiah’s eyes didn’t leave Big Boy’s, their gazes connected for long moments that only sunk Big Boy deeper into the darkness of his mind. They only broke eye contact when Josiah pulled his pocket knife out and flipped it open, he held it loosely in his hand, almost nonchalantly, but kept the blade pointed at Annie in a silent message designed to drive his point home. “Last chance, mutt. You know what happens when I lose my patience, I bet she’s not as durable as you are.”

Annie’s breath caught in her throat, the veiled threat was enough to make her lungs stutter as she felt the tears pool in her eyes. She looked up at Big Boy, taking in the fearful defiance that clung to the lines of his face as he stared back at Josiah. She looked to Herschel and searched for any hints of kindness, any of the prior indications of compassion that he had shown her in her time with him, but she was met with expressionless eyes. For the first time since meeting the Boone Clan, for the first time in her _life_ , Annie felt hopeless. The dangerous glimmer in Josiah’s eyes settled over her like a weighted blanket and she gave herself over the inevitable. A tear slipped down her cheek, leaving a cold line down her skin where the night air seemed to dig into her nerves, and she released a shuddering breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. 

Her hand shook as she reached up and softly pressed her palm to Big Boy’s cheek, gently coaxing him to look away from Josiah and down at her. His brow furrowed as he took in the shine of tears on her cheeks, his hand curled into a tighter fist in her shirt as she caressed his jaw softly. Her lips parted slowly as she tried to reassure him, but her words were lost on a sob and Annie rested her forehead on his chest in an effort to steady herself. When she looked back up, her heart twisted to see that his eyes were filled with tears to match her own. 

Annie closed her eyes and softly moved her hand down to the side of his throat, she rested her palm against his pulse and focused on the strength of his heartbeat as she silently begged God for the strength she needed to get through the unavoidable detour into hell. “It’s okay,” she breathed into the night air. Big Boy frowned and shook his head slightly, but Annie felt compassion surge within her like the heat from the campfire and she gave him a short nod and a reassuring smile. “It is, it’s okay. I know that you don’t have a choice, neither of us want the alternative.”

Big Boy hung his head in shame, unable to argue with the encouragement in her whispered sentiments. He wanted to resist, he wanted to keep her safe from whatever harm lurked in the woods - even if that harm was borne of Josiah and Herschel’s wickedness. He leaned into her hand, seeking solace in the soothing affection she offered him, and he slowly looked back into her eyes. Annie nodded slowly, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to prevent the feelings of guilt and shame but she hoped that she could ease the impact that they would have on his already weary soul. 

He sighed in defeat and released his grip on her shirt, he took one last moment to look deeper into her eyes, as if confirming that she was aware of how much worse it would be if he continued to refuse Josiah. He needed to be sure, he needed her to be sure, even though he knew that uncertainty wouldn’t matter to Josiah and Herschel. 

“That’s real fuckin’ sweet,” Herschel’s voice cut through the connection between the two of them, his tone sharper than the knife in Josiah’s hands as it forced them back to the reality of their situation. “But I’m gettin’ sick of watching the little love fest. If you can’t reign your dog in then I’ll have some fun myself, cuz.” 

Josiah laughed and shot Big Boy a grin that chilled him to his core. He could have sworn that the demon that lived deep in Josiah’s core flashed in his eyes, the green irises darkened dangerously and seemed to soak up the yellow glow of the flames. The malice that radiated off the cousins cut deeper than any hunting knife, flaying the pair of victims open on the cold ground as their hearts raced in matching rhythms and their breath mingled in terrified bursts of heat on the cold night air. 

Big Boy wrapped his hand around her wrist and he ignored her sharp cry of surprise as he forced her arm over her body to manipulate Annie onto her stomach. He had always been aware of how small she was compared to him, but as he used his body to pin her to the dirt Big Boy couldn’t help but feel like a child holding a newborn kitten too tightly. Annie had always felt small, but suddenly she felt fragile as he pressed his weight into her back. He squeezed his eyes shut as he tugged her pants down just far enough, hoping to preserve some shred of her dignity even as he stole a piece of her soul. 

Annie whimpered softly and clenched her hands into fists, clinging desperately to the knowledge that whatever Josiah would do to her would be ten times worse. The cold air hit the skin of her hips and she froze, paralyzed beneath him despite the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in her head. Every shift of his body on top of her was like the second hand moving on a clock, bringing her closer and closer to the moment that she knew would break her beyond repair. 

With a quiet grunt and a hard thrust, Annie felt him push into her, felt him invade her like a kudzu vine stealing life from everything in its path. She gasped and stiffened, involuntarily biting down on the sharp sensation until her teeth cut into her bottom lip. Big Boy pulled her wrists in one hand and pinned them over her head as her instincts kicked in and she struggled against him, his hips pushed hard into her backside as he used his body weight to keep her beneath him. She closed her eyes against the sensation, her thoughts raced in quick circles as she prayed for the intrusion, the invasion, to be quick and easy. 

Big Boy grimaced as she pulled feebly against him, he had resolved to be still for a moment in an effort to let her body adjust but Annie quickly spiraled into panic as he pressed deeper and deeper into her. She choked on a sob, resting her forehead on the hard ground as she clenched her small hands into fists. He clenched his jaw, overwhelmed with disgust and self pity as laughter from the cousins cut through his attempts to be gentle with her. 

“There ya go mutt,” Josiah’s voice grated across the air with unfettered delight. “I bet it feels good to get your dick wet, ‘ey boy?” 

Big Boy shuddered, a fresh wave of self loathing rolled over him and settled in his stomach. He leaned harder into Annie as he braced against the nausea, taking just a moment of comfort from her presence even as he violated her so callously. 

Annie visibly recoiled at the sound of Herschel’s low chuckle, curling into herself as much as she could in her pinned position. “He’s takin’ his time cuz, he might like ‘er more than you.” The deceptively good natured tone of the joke jolted Big Boy back to the task at hand, his mind flooded with images of what Josiah could possibly do with the hunting knife if he decided to play his game with Annie and sent a sharp streak of panic through him.

He forced himself to ignore her low moan of pain as he moved inside of her, forcing himself deeper with a hard thrust that shoved her forward in the dirt. He hated Josiah, hated Herschel, even hated himself in that moment. A part of him even hated Annie; hated her for being so small and easy to pin in place, hated her for being so soft and delicate, hated her for being so appealing to the cousins. Big Boy clung to that hate, clung to the irrational anger that layered over his thoughts like a thick fog, he focused on the burn in his chest as he moved quickly and mercilessly inside her. The care he had taken in the beginning was gone, he no longer hoped to spare her the pain that he so often felt, he lost the desire to shield her from the agony that he knew came with such a violent intrusion. His only thought was burying every thought in her body, losing every emotion in her small cries of pain. 

The cousins looked on with ravenous eyes as Big Boy lost every ounce of his compassion, as he abandoned his humanity and turned his own pain and suffering into the sickening need to inflict that same pain on Annie. For a moment his mind was swept away in the cathartic experience of possessing her body, of using her to turn his suffering outwards and give himself a momentary reprieve before crashing back to the reality that he was trapped in. 

Annie cried out as, with a final shove against her body, Big Boy shuddered and dropped his weight on top of her. His orgasm came hard and fast, evident by the way she felt him twitch inside of her before he slowly pulled himself out of her body and rolled away with a choked sigh. She slowly brought her arms down to cross over her chest, moving to her side as she curled up in a small ball, as if attempting to shield herself from the onslaught of emotions that were quickly crashing down on her. She heard Josiah and Herschel’s laughter as if they were far in the distance, the sound carrying through her consciousness like a soft echo. 

She opened her eyes slowly, focusing on Big Boy’s shaking form through the blur of tears that hadn’t yet fallen. His quiet sobs pierced through the stiff ache of her body, through the pain that seemed to radiate directly through her soul. Annie pushed herself slowly to her knees, she took a deep breath to steady herself as she righted her clothes and used her sleeve to wipe the dirt from the tear tracks on her cheeks. 

The cousins had lost interest in the two of them, laughing and reminiscing as they continued drinking by the campfire. Annie moved quietly, creeping as slowly as possible across the ground, clinging to the shadows in hopes of avoiding catching their attention again. She knelt close to Big Boy and looked down at him, her chest tightened as her gaze roamed over his face and she registered the intensity of the pain in his features. She slid a hand into his hair, pulling him out of his thoughts and bringing his attention to the soft expression in her eyes. 

Their eyes met, hazel connecting with honey, their gazes somehow bright despite the darkness. Annie’s heart wrenched in her chest as she looked deeper into his eyes, she froze for a moment as she looked into deep pools of pain that mirrored her own. For a moment, the rest of the world fell away from them. Their souls clung tightly to each other, grasping desperately at each other’s frayed edges. Their individual suffering mutated into a single wound, a deep gash that spread across the flesh of their beings and linked their horribly similar traumas, anchoring them together in a special agony that neither could ignore. 

Annie felt a tear slide down her cheek, felt the gentle breeze cling to the wet streak it left on her skin as it dropped freely from her face to land at the corner of Big Boy’s mouth, another thread connecting the two of them as they lingered in the moment of numbness.

“I forgive you.”

Big Boy’s eyes went impossibly wide as her gentle words seemed to settle in his mind. She couldn’t bring herself to smile, no matter how much she wanted to comfort him, but he didn’t seem to mind. After a moment of stunned, frozen staring, a moment of forcing himself to believe that her words were real, he turned over and laid his head on her lap, carefully wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her close to him as tears flowed freely from his gentle eyes. 

It was impossible to ignore how broken the intimidatingly large man in her lap was, impossible to ignore how - despite his size - Big Boy felt like a small child hiding from a monster under his bed. And perhaps he was, perhaps Josiah was the physical embodiment of all of Big Boy’s childhood fears, reducing him to the helpless child that still hid somewhere in his mind. She bit her lip softly, trying to tamp down the sadness that flooded her as she thought of how much longer Big Boy had been living in this hell than her. She forced herself to stop wondering how much worse he had endured, how much worse he would endure. She forced herself not to acknowledge that being forced to rape her was probably one of Josiah’s kinder games. She forced herself not to let her thoughts spiral into wondering about what Herschel had planned for her. 

He shuddered when she laid her hand gentle on his back, her touch moving in light circles over the layers of scars, bruising, and permanent damage to his muscles. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been touched so softly, the last time a hand had moved over him with any sort of kindness. Even Josiah’s soft touches were laced with cruelty, his hands were incapable of touch that didn’t feel vicious and manipulative. He had grown so used to every softness being traded for pain, he waited, tense and fearful, only to be met with Annie sighing quietly before she started to sing. 

_“I would say I’ll see you in the morning,  
But I know all the good will be gone…”_

Her voice carried over the campsite, twining with the cracks and pops of the fresh wood that had been tossed in the fire. 

_“It is clear you, Sally, have to leave now,  
So I’ll wave goodbye, good heart.” _

Herschel and Josiah fell silent, their laughter dying as they turned their attention to the two fragile, broken people huddled just outside the circle of light provided by the campfire. 

_“When the night is slowly sleeping,  
And we come to the final two…”_

Big Boy closed his eyes and swallowed a sob, overwhelmed with the graciousness and kindness emanating from the woman he had just violated and abused.

_“I hold you close to me, darling,  
And I hope to see you soon.”_

Annie fell silent at the end of the short song, surprised at the stillness of the men surrounding her. It seemed to drag on forever, stirring an anxious ache in her chest as her mind flooded with thoughts of what wrath she had incurred by indulging her spontaneous desire to sing Big Boy a lullaby. 

“Damn cuz,” Josiah finally said, his voice uncharacteristically devoid of malice. “I thought calling her songbird was just a pet name. Now I get why you wanted to keep her.”

Annie caught the brief smile that crossed Herschel’s face, a reassuring glimpse of the softer man she knew was somewhere inside of him. He shook his head at Josiah and stood, moving to stand over Annie and Big Boy with his hand extended to her. “Come on my little Songbird.” His voice was tender and wanting, pulling at the strings of Annie’s compassion as she glanced down at Big Boy, still resting on her lap as he refused to look up at Herschel. “Let the mutt spend some time where he belongs, you’ve played with him enough for the day.”

Big Boy squeezed her waist for a moment before letting go, moving out of her lap to allow her to timidly take Herschel’s hand and let him help her to her feet. She followed him into the woods, his grip firm and unyielding, but Annie couldn’t stop herself from glancing back at Big Boy, crawling defeatedly into the light as Josiah purposefully held his hunting knife out of Big Boy’s sight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	3. Keep You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie gets a glimpse of Herschel's intentions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Intimate whumper, creepy whumper, nonviolent use of knives, blood, manipulation/intimidation
> 
> [RECORD: NFWMB by Hozier](https://open.spotify.com/track/2iQYqdalv245vrCEM4W9N9?si=xuKGSGxTRYeoF2X6kIiheg)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=TJS1J-zWRfK52PqYc4Nt-Q)

Annie sat, huddled in a corner on the cold wood floor, her eyes trained on Herschel as he sat in the recliner nearby. She pulled her knees tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself in an effort to simultaneously keep warm and shield her body from his view. The weight of the thick, leather collar constantly sat like a dark presence in the back of her mind, like a grim reminder of her situation that she couldn’t quite ignore no matter what she tried to focus on. She pulled in a shuddering breath as she traced it with her fingers for the millionth time, as if reminding herself that this was really happening, that she had really been pulled off the street and dragged back to this man’s home to be kept like a dog. 

No, worse than a dog. His dog was allowed to roam freely, allowed to lay where she wanted, treated with affection and kindness. His dog was given a bed and a blanket, given food off his plate while it was still hot. His dog was allowed to roam freely, given a doggy door to come and go as she pleased. His dog was _free_ in a way that Annie was unsure she would ever be again. 

She sighed and suppressed a shiver, unwilling to draw attention to herself in this moment of peace and quiet. Herschel’s bright blue eyes were sharper than any blade that she could imagine, his gaze felt as if it were cutting through her when he concentrated, as if he were flaying her open to get a good look at the layers she kept hidden beneath the surface.

Annie looked to the floor, focused on following the lines of the wood as they curled and wove in and out of each other, trailing across the hard surface like lines drawn on a map to guide her out of her reality and into some realm of safety. She quietly pressed the tip of her finger to the wood, taking in the sensation of the smooth, sanded down surface that betrayed the deceptively textured patterns of the warm brown planks of wood laid out all around her. She couldn’t help but think of her situation, imagining that this was a sign that she wouldn’t find an escape in reality, just like she couldn’t find one in her imagination as she stared at the patterns of the grain. 

“You hungry?” 

Her eyes snapped to his, immediately wide and fearful as his gaze bore into her. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands as he stared at her, waiting for her to respond to the gruff question. 

She stared back at him for a moment, trying to force her mind out of the haze that she had let settle over her thoughts in an effort to keep from getting lost in the waves of anxiety and fear. She forced her gaze from his chillingly intense stare and took in his features; the way his hair fell in soft blonde tendrils over his forehead, the way his skin wrinkled just a bit at the corners of his eyes, the way his facial hair couldn’t quite hide the little quirks of his mouth when he frowned at her. 

“Well?” He asked again. His voice was tight with a hint of impatience as he stared at her expectantly. 

She nodded slowly and licked her lips, it dawned on her that she was not only hungry but also incredibly thirsty. She wasn’t sure if it was the stress of the situation, the loss of control when and what she ate, but it seemed that she was never given _quite_ enough to satisfy her body. 

Herschel stood and beckoned her with his finger, he didn’t bother to wait for her to get to her feet before he started towards the kitchen. Annie swayed slightly as she stood, she was overwhelmed with the powerful wave of nausea that followed every interaction she had with him. She knew it was her body’s response to the intense stress and fear, a natural reaction as the wave of adrenaline passed and her mind could set aside the struggle to resist her fight or flight instinct.

She followed him to the kitchen, her thoughts consumed with silent prayers that this wasn’t a trick, that she was really going to get a full meal if she quietly complied with his orders and didn’t argue or ask questions. 

She looked up from the floor as she entered the kitchen, her focus immediately shifted to Herschel for direction. He leaned against the counter and ran a hand over his beard, he took a moment to stare at her and Annie shifted uncomfortably. She had always thought that she had a gift for reading people, her first impressions of people were often entirely too accurate and she had come to rely on the accuracy of the barometer that was constantly measuring the intentions of the people around her. But her gift seemed to fail her in regards to the man who seemed to effortlessly pin her with no more than a look in her direction.

There were moments when his eyes were sharp and cruel, when she felt as if he was assessing all of her weak points and cataloging them away to use against her later. Moments when Annie wished that she could blend into her surroundings like a chameleon in order to escape the harsh scrutiny of his gaze. But there were also moments of sharp contrast that never failed to shock Annie, moments where she could see a hint of humanity in him. 

She knew that both sides of the coin existed within Herschel, that he was capable of extraordinary cruelty and human decency, but she had yet to figure out how to predict which side of him she would see at any given moment. And so she stood, squirming under his gaze, waiting to find out which side of Herschel Boone would meet her in his kitchen that night. 

He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed. “Don’t try anything funny, hear me?” She nodded meekly, quickly trying to assure him that she had no ill intentions despite the multitude of potential weapons surrounding her. Annie wasn’t a stupid woman, she knew that she would lose a fight with him, no matter how she armed herself. She wasn’t built to fight, her soul was too gentle, too soft, and she knew that Herschel could feel that. Like a hawk hunting a mouse, he knew that she would be easy to scoop up the moment she stepped into the field. 

She watched as he moved to the other side of the kitchen, pulled a chair out from the little breakfast table, and sat down. He casually crossed one leg over the other and drummed his fingers on the table top. “Well,” he gestured to the kitchen in general. “Make us some dinner, unless you’re not hungry?” 

Her response was instant, panicked. She vehemently shook her head as she suppressed a shudder. “N-no, I’ll cook something,” she responded quickly. 

With a satisfied nod, Herschel relaxed in the chair and silently watched her start to move around the kitchen. His gaze was focused and steady, taking in her every move while allowing her the space she needed to feel just comfortable enough to make a meal. “If ya need help, say so,” he said quietly.

Annie cast a hesitant glance in his direction but stopped when her eyes met his. Once again, she was frozen like a small animal that had spotted a predator. She forced herself to take a breath, to steady her nerves and try to look less like a helpless bird, frozen in the snow, and more like the dignified young woman that her father had raised her to be. She stood a little straighter and averted her gaze, unable to summon a response while she looked at him. 

“No,” she said softly. “No, I don’t need help. Thank you.” 

With a brief nod, Herschel fell silent and simply watched her. Annie could feel his eyes on her with every move she made, she felt his gaze follow her hands as she reached for ingredients in tall cupboards, she saw the slight shift in his body as she dug through the shelf of cookware to find the right sized pot, she saw the way he seemed to be fighting the urge to get up from his chair and involve himself in what she was doing - she almost felt as if he were fighting an instinct to _help_ her. 

It was easy for Annie to fall into a familiar rhythm and she quickly became comfortable as she moved around the kitchen. Herschel’s eyes slowly became more like white noise in the back of her mind, easy to ignore as she busied herself with a task that she enjoyed, with something that she knew she was good at. She quickly found pasta and beef, set water to boil and meat to simmer, and she turned her attention on slicing tomatoes to make her homemade red sauce. 

Annie yelped in pain as the knife caught her finger and blood instantly pooled to the surface. She dropped the knife to the cutting board and she instinctively pulled her finger to her mouth to prevent blood from mingling with the fruit as she looked around for something to press to the wound. 

Herschel moved quickly, silently appearing at her side before she had even registered that he had left his chair at the other side of the room. She yelped again, her surprise at his sudden proximity pulling the shocked sound from her lips as she instinctively cowered away from him. Her prior determination to remain graceful and dignified despite her fear vanished as he pulled her finger from her mouth. 

She tried to pull her hand back but Herschel held her firmly and shot her a quick glance that immediately stilled her. A shudder ran through her body, involuntarily flowing over her muscles as he turned her hand over to better inspect the slice through her finger. 

“I keep the knives sharp,” he said softly. “You’re lucky ya won’t need stitches.”

Annie felt her shoulders relax a little at the hint of his accent, the way his hands felt warm and secure around hers, at how carefully he inspected the damage done to her finger. “I can just bandage it and keep cooking,” she whispered timidly. 

His eyes were surprisingly soft when he glanced up at her, the sharp blue that made her so timid suddenly full of what Annie was sure was concern. He shook his head at her, “I’ll help you.” He dropped her hand and looked at her, his eyes narrowed as if trying to decide something. “Stay here, _don’t move_.”

She swallowed, nodded, and Herschel disappeared from the room. Annie let out a sigh, releasing a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. She was grateful for the moment alone, she needed it as she struggled to process the softness that had been so evident in his features as he had looked at her injury. He was like an enigma; impossible to predict, impossible to read, utterly impossible to figure out no matter how hard she tried. There were moments when he terrified her, when her heart stopped beating in her chest at little more than the sound of his voice. But then there were other moments, like the one that had just passed, when Annie was sure that there was kindness and concern behind the stoic gaze that seemed locked on her at all times. 

Herschel reappeared with a first aid kit, eyes immediately following the rivulet of blood that had trailed over her hand and begun to seep into the fabric of her sleeve. She hadn’t realized that her yellow shirt was quickly staining bright red and Annie inhaled sharply as she shoved her sleeve up her arm to prevent the hem from absorbing any more blood, streaking her skin red where the wet fabric had moved up her arm. 

Without a word, he gently gripped her elbow and moved her away from the stove to the counter opposite them, where he had opened the first aid kit and laid out what he wanted. Her breath hitched as he lifted her by her waist and set her on the counter, as easily as if he were lifting a small child from the ground. 

Annie bit her lip but obeyed as he held out his hand expectantly, clearly waiting for her to present her wound to him again. Tentatively, she laid the back of her hand against his palm, her injured finger extended so that he could easily see the wound. She watched him as he quietly held her hand, bringing it closer so that he could get a good look at it before he moved it over the sink and reached for the bottle of antiseptic. 

He poured it quickly over the open wound, his grip tightening as she pulled in a sharp hiss of pain and instinctively tried to jerk her hand away. “I know,” he said softly. “Sorry…I don’t wanna see you hurt.”

Her brows furrowed in a tight frown, “Unless you’re the one hurting me, you mean?” 

The question was soft, so quiet that he wouldn’t have heard her had he not been so close. He glanced up at her, his eyes sharp with a warning that sent a shiver down Annie’s spine. She snapped her mouth closed and looked down at her lap. “Sorry,” she mumbled meekly, “that was rude of me.”

He dabbed at her finger with the gauze, patiently absorbing the blood that still seeped from the wound, and glanced back up at her. “I don’t _want_ to hurt ya,” he said quietly as he pulled the gauze away and reached for a bandage. 

She could barely raise her voice above a whisper as she watched him bandage her finger, “Then why did you?” 

He gently set her hand in her lap and rested his hands on the counter on either side of her. He leaned forward on his hands and looked at her, his eyes looking directly into hers. The silence settled over them like the violet haze of dusk settled over the sunset, stretching every second until it felt impossibly long. 

“I _don’t_ want to hurt ya,” he finally said, his gaze still fixed on hers. “I don’t want to have to hurt ya ever again. I just want to _keep_ ya.”

Annie felt the hot flush creep over her cheeks. While her first thoughts were immediately consumed with the realization that he didn’t plan on ever letting her leave, it quickly occurred to her that a part of him wanted her there not just as a toy to abuse and torment, but as something _else_.

He lifted her hand again and looked down at the bandaged finger. “My momma used to do this for me,” she could hear the far away tone in his voice, as if he were remembering something from a lifetime ago. “She used to put a band-aid on me and give it a little kiss. As if that’d make it better - like it could make my whole world better.” He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to the bandage and Annie’s breath caught in her throat. 

“Herschel -” Before she could say any more, he lifted her off the counter and set her on her feet. His hands lingered for a moment on her waist, the touch a gentle contrast to the way he had grabbed her by the hair earlier that morning. Annie allowed her lips to curve in a small smile as she brushed her hands down his arms with a feather light touch, as if to signal to him that she felt his kindness and was grateful for it. It was the only thing she could think to do; it didn’t feel right to force more conversation and she certainly didn’t want him to think that she didn’t notice the moments when he tried to be gentle with her. 

He turned back to the cutting board and began to slice tomatoes for her. “I’ll finish this for ya,” he said quietly as he set about finishing her task.

Annie could only nod silently, her mind was reeling with what she had seen in the last few minutes. She couldn’t deny that she was still terrified of him, she would likely always be terrified of him. But she felt a small spark of something, somewhere inside of her, that made her curious about what lay beneath his icy exterior. She wondered what could make a man so capable of tenderness also so capable of extreme cruelty. 

She forced herself to move back to the stove, to stand beside him and continue cooking. She was acutely aware of every move he made, but the tension between them somehow felt different and Annie was able to focus her thoughts on cooking rather than constantly waiting for something horrible to happen. 

They finished cooking in silence, Herschel watching her and helping where he deemed it necessary. When she finally declared dinner done, Herschel nodded and moved to the cabinet to pull down dishes to serve food on. 

“Go sit.”

She was crestfallen at the simple command, the same command he had used every night before. She suppressed a sigh as she complied silently, retreating to the same corner of the dining room he made her kneel in for every meal. She wasn’t sure why she felt the sinking disappointment, the dashed hope that somehow their short interaction had changed something between them. In reality he hadn’t given her any real reason to hope for anything to change. 

Herschel made two plates of food in silence as Annie sat, focused on the floor with a defeated expression. She closed her eyes tightly, desperately trying to stop the tears that she felt welling up behind her eyes. She felt the hot flood of shame as she mentally chastised herself for allowing the hope to build up in her mind, for allowing herself to become vulnerable to the sharp sting of disappointment when her hopes were inevitably dashed. 

She looked up at the sharp snap of his fingers and was stunned to see Herschel standing in front of her, his hand extended and waiting. “Come on, you want to eat or not?” 

Annie blinked and glanced at the table, she was shocked and confused to see that he had set two place settings and set the second plate of food in the place next to his. A heavy tear rolled down her cheek as she let him help her to her feet, his calloused palm pressed firmly to her soft skin. She settled gingerly in the chair beside his and bit her lip, trying - and failing - to tamp down the bright rays of hope that surged in her chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	4. Gnocci

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big Boy teaches Annie how to make gnocci.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> lady whumpee, human captivity, mentions of past trauma, food tw, cooking, nonviolent knives mention, whumpees bonding, angsty memories, angsty thoughts of ‘what if’
> 
> Josiah Blevins and Big Boy belong to Lonesomehunter's [The Devil's Highway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23187187/chapters/55504210)
> 
> [RECORD: In Too Deep by The Sweeplings](https://open.spotify.com/track/7oBuzlW4oRMA9NfVLFbzXH?si=EAEP6xXaT-ewpx9rLh1Y7w)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=TJS1J-zWRfK52PqYc4Nt-Q)

Annie sighed as she finished peeling the last potato, setting it to the side for Big Boy to chop into cubes small enough to boil without taking too long. She’d been surprised when he had offered to teach her his mother’s gnocchi recipe, whispering to her that it was an easy meal that Herschel had always seemed to enjoy - an easy meal to keep her in his good graces. He took the potato from her with a small smile, placing his hand over hers for just a moment before chopping it up with the blunted knife.

“It surprises everyone how easy it is to make, such simple ingredients to make something so… _homey_.” He sighed and dropped the cubed potato into the pot of boiling water, his gaze set on the water like he was watching something that only he could see.

Annie touched his forearm softly, careful to keep her voice quiet in case Herschel was nearby and wanted to reinforce his latest rule of silence unless she was given permission to speak. “I’m homesick too,” she whispered, barely audible over the boiling water and the overhead fan on the stove.

Big Boy looked down at the tiny woman at his side and then to her impossible small, damaged fingers resting on his arm. She didn’t speak much anymore, not compared to when Herschel first started dragging her to Josiah’s kicking and screaming, but it never failed to make his heart ache to hear the sincerity and compassion that carried so strongly in her delicate voice.

He touched the fingers on her hand, featherlight in case they still ached, and nodded. “It gets better with time, you’ll think about it less.”

She swallowed and nodded, pursing her lips to stave off tears. It was still so fresh for her, the memories of home were so vivid and came so often. Big Boy remembered that too well, how much it ached when Josiah first brought him home, how much it stung to remember even the smallest details of home. He hoped that reassuring her that it would get better would offer some comfort, but he hoped even more that she’d find a way out and that she would never need it. He hoped that Annie would find a moment, just one perfect moment where Herschel wasn’t looking, that she’d find her way home and that he would be little more than a memory to her. He hoped that one day she could forget him entirely, that she could forget all of it. But his hope was followed closely by a dark, hollow feeling that it would never be a reality.

Big Boy blinked away his thoughts, reminding himself that Annie was already lonely enough. She didn’t need to be alone even when she was standing beside him.

“For now,” he said, forcing warmth into his voice, “we need a few eggs and some flour. The potatoes will only take a few minutes to get tender enough to mash.”

Annie nodded and gave his arm a small squeeze of solidarity and turned away from him to fetch what he needed. She stood beside him in silence, taking comfort in his gentle, looming presence as they watched the potatoes boil. Despite what had happened on the camping trip, Big Boy was the only person that she felt completely safe with, the only one whose eyes didn’t watch her like a predatory stalking a small animal.

It felt too soon when he started spearing the potatoes with a fork and dropping them in a bowl he had set nearby, but she watched him intently as she memorized every step of the process. She furrowed her brow a bit as he picked the potatoes out of the bowl a few at a time.

“Why not just drain them?”

He shrugged, his lips quirked in a half smile. “My mother always said that there was no point in wasting water. We’ll have to boil another pot if we just drain it.” He smiled at her, his eyes crinkled affectionately at their edges. “I’m sure it’s a habit that my family brought from the old country, from days when they had to haul water to their house from the streams. Some things just stick, I guess.”

She watched him work the fork against the potatoes, mashing them quickly and effectively, as if he’d done it every day of his life. The ease with which he worked with the food made it clear that it had been a large part of his life before Josiah, that cooking was a family event and meant more than just eating. She felt another twinge of sadness as she thought of her own family, how she had grown up cooking with her mother and sisters, the many memories she had in the kitchen of their little house that her father had built with his bare hands beside his church.

“Okay,” Big Boy said, his voice heavy with memories that Annie wished she could see. “I need four cups of sugar and two eggs.”

Annie nodded and handed him the eggs, watching him crack and open each one from the corner of her eye as she measured out the floor and poured each cup into the bowl for him.

She couldn’t help but watch the way he kneaded the dough, the ease with which his hands moved in the bowl with quick, strong movements. Annie glanced up at the subtle smile on his face and wondered what would have happened had they met differently, had this not been their lives. She wondered if they would have still found themselves cooking together, with a different kind of tension hanging between them, if they would have traded stories about their lives and talked about meeting each other’s families, made hypothetical plans for a future together to make each other smile. She wondered if his hands would have touched her differently, strong but gentle, a safe refuge from the stresses of real life rather than the cruelty that had brought them together. She wondered if they would have had a first time that wasn’t a forced ordeal on the forest floor, if he would have held her gently and littered her body with soft kisses that matched his touch. She wondered if the soothing, easy bond that they shared would have existed if not borne of the trauma that they now shared.

Big Boy cleared his throat and Annie snapped out of her thoughts, forced herself back to reality and looked up at him. His brows were knitted with concern and he reached out to brush her cheek with his thumb, neither of them caring about the streak of flour it left over her spatter of freckles and olive skin. Annie felt herself blush slightly and quickly looked away, fear suddenly racing through her at the thought of what either cousin would do if they were to be seen having a moment that was remotely affectionate. 

Big Boy seemed to understand her sudden change of behavior and immediately turned back to the ball of dough that he had laid on the counter. He shook his head slightly and started rolling it into long snakes of dough, weaving it in long s-curves on the counter before cutting it into little half inch pieces. 

“It’s easy from here,” he said softly as he dropped the bite sized pieces of dough into the water that still boiled on the stove. “Just drop them in and wait until they float, then drain the pot and serve them with red sauce.” 

Annie nodded, her eyes tinted with the vague hint of sadness as she looked up at him. “Thank you,” she whispered. “You didn’t have to show me how to make your family recipe.” 

Big Boy cast her a smile, genuine and friendly, and shrugged. “Like I said, Herschel loves it and it’s easy for nights that cooking a big meal just isn’t possible for… _whatever_ reason.” The hint in his tone was too obvious to both of them; it was an easy meal for nights when she was too badly beaten or too weak to do more than boil water. 

“Besides,” he said softly, looking back at the pot on the stove. “I won’t be around forever. Maybe this way someone will remember me when I’m gone, some little part of me will still be around.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	5. Dwindling Patience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herschel teaches Annie how to beg.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Stepping on fingers, forced to speak, forced to beg, human captivity, trauma reactions, dissociation, sadistic whumper, violent whumper, intimate whumper
> 
> [Broken by Cherryholmes](https://open.spotify.com/track/18apr78gIX6GGCui1hBXO9?si=R-BU00imQm6-c_UHey4GMg)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=TJS1J-zWRfK52PqYc4Nt-Q)

Annie gasped as Herschel pressed his weight down, his boot digging harder into her fingers as he pinned her hand to the floor. He twisted the steel-toed tip of his foot harder into her delicate fingers, ignoring the breathless cry that ripped from her lips as tears slipped down her cheeks. She looked up at him, eyes glossy and wet with tears and desperation, her lower lip trembled just enough to make Herschel’s lips twitch up in a crooked smile.

“Do you have something to say, Annie?” His voice settled over her like oil on water; slick and heavy, incapable of becoming a part of her but somehow impossible to separate from her thoughts. She choked on a breath, tried to force herself to inhale deeply enough to respond, but a fresh wave of pain flooded her senses as he put more weight on her fingers and twisted his foot again cruelly. “Speak up, little girl.”

She pressed her eyes closed, trying to see past the pain to take a breath. She was all too aware that Herschel wouldn’t stop without a verbal answer from her. She whimpered softly, finally focused on her lungs enough to take in the breath she needed to beg the way he expected.

“Pl-please, Herschel-” his foot twisted again, sending a furious burst of sensation through her fingers and bringing her voice to a screeching halt. She laid her forehead on the floor, bowing in submission to the pain, and waited for him to still so that she could form anything resembling a coherent thought. “I - it’s too much…my hand, Herschel, please.” 

“Please, what?”

She whimpered quietly, unsure if she had the strength to elaborate further. “M-my hand. Please…Please stop, Herschel - please let my hand up - oh God, please Herschel.”

His lips curled in a predatory grin and Annie felt her heart stutter in her chest. She held her breath as the seconds ticked by, silently praying for mercy as his hungry eyes devoured what little of her pride she had left. After what seemed like a lifetime had passed between them, he chuckled. She shuddered at the low sound that felt like the deep rumble of heavy machinery, reminding her of the unstoppable force of metal parts that were determined to continue moving even when faced with human flesh in their path.

He lifted his foot and she gasped, her chest heaving with the force of the relief that violently filled her body. She rolled to her side, curled on the floor with her hand cradled to her chest, tears mingling with her hair as she lay in a pool of limp, almost lifeless limbs on the hardwood floor. 

Heat blossomed in her fingers, spreading over her skin like the sun rising over a field of wildflowers. The appendages twitched pitifully, coming back to life with twinges of pain and tingles of a kind of agony she hadn’t known she could feel so acutely. She could hear him talking, his voice carrying through the place in her mind that she was quickly retreating into. She could faintly hear his vicious tenor, his terrifying call for her to return to reality, and she knew that if she didn’t bring her mind back to him then she would suffer through so much more than the white heat that still radiated through her damaged fingers. 

Annie knew that she could continue to retreat to the safety of her mind, that she could continue to attempt to hide in the comfort of her memories. That she could bring more suffering upon herself, that she could taunt his violent urges with her mental absence. She also knew that she could return to the actuality of her life in that moment of time, that she could embrace the pain in an effort to prevent more, to survive, by simply opening her eyes and answering him. She knew that his patience would only last so long, that the brief moment of reprieve from his horrifying desires would soon come to an end, and that if she hadn’t returned on her own he would force her to return to him by any means necessary. Her brows pulled together and she moaned softly, hating herself for the decision she knew she didn’t have a choice but to make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	6. I'll Make You Sing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie earns the title of Songbird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Lady whump, whump, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, mild fingore, mild nail gore, mild gore, blood, choking, head trauma, voice control, manipulation, noncon kissing, southern whump, southern gothic
> 
> [Sick, Sick, Sick by Queens of the Stone Age](https://open.spotify.com/track/2jahbbMfa8GsYFhwBOBYMC?si=Iq1uIUKISw6e7ymEoL7yEg)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=ovzsjTJeT_GLntTKij22TA)

Songbird hit the ground before she could register his hands at her throat, the pain at the back of her head blossomed in white heat that curled around her senses and shocked her into silence. 

“Did I _say_ you could _speak_ , Songbird?” Herschel’s eyes were dark with rage, his face contorted as he tightened his grip on her throat. 

Songbird shook her head violently, her eyes wide and panicked as she clawed at his arms. Her nails dug into his skin, tearing raw stripes of exposed tissue into his flesh. He toyed with her, squeezing her throat just tight enough to make her panic - to keep her silent - but leaving enough room in her trachea to allow her to take shallow breaths that never quite satisfied the burn in her lungs. 

Her panic intensified, the voice in the back of her mind screaming that he was going to kill her. It was such a stupid mistake, a simple ‘thank you’ as he set her dinner down in front of her. A polite response that hadn’t even occurred to her to think about, and she was going to die for it on the dining room floor of a run down house in the middle of nowhere. 

She dug her nails in deeper, crying out in a fresh burst of pain as her nail caught in his muscle and snapped free of her finger. She pulled her hands away as Herschel’s lips curved in a wicked smile that sent chills down her spine. 

“Do that again,” he said in a coarse whisper. Every syllable pricked at her skin like needles, leaving her tense and quivering beneath him. Her eyes were wide with fear and confusion, she struggled to connect the dots through the haze created by the lack of oxygen.

“I _said_ ,” he growled at her, his smile faded slightly as anger washed over him again, “ _do it **again**._” 

Blood streamed down his arms from where her nails had torn into his skin, making his grip on her throat slick and sticky. The scent of copper clouded her thoughts and she was suddenly intensely aware of the fact that she was covered in _his_ blood. 

Herschel lowered his lips to her ear, letting them brush against her as he whispered intimately. “If you won’t sing for me, I’ll _make you sing_ , Songbird. Just like you did a minute ago.” He tightened his grip and she forced another breath through the strangling grip on her throat. “Do you trust me?”

She pressed her eyes closed and wheezed before she nodded her head. She was already intimately familiar with this game and knew what he expected her to say. 

He lifted her by the throat and slammed her back down, cracking her skull against the hardwood floor. She yelped in pain and surprise, unable to stop herself as her mind forgot everything but the pain that turned her vision white and shot through her neck like the crack of a whip. 

“ _There_ it is, Songbird!” She heard the joy sparked in his voice, the uptick in his tone as the thrill of violence worked over him like poison spreading through his blood stream. 

He slammed her down again, the dull thud of her head colliding with the wood floor sent a wave of nausea through Songbird and she wailed involuntarily. She was losing control of her voice, unable to keep silent as he had demanded so many times in the past. 

She clawed at the ground at her sides, her hands scrambling to find _anything_ that could free her from his grip, that could save her before he choked the life out of her. She keened at the sting of sensation as her damaged fingers scraped along the smooth wood floor. Darkness was creeping at the edges of her vision, blurring her peripherals and forcing her to try to focus on Herschel’s face in a desperate attempt to remain conscious. 

Her body went rigid as Herschel pressed his lips to hers in a hard, bruising kiss. It was demanding, but quick and ruthless. He forced her lips open and swiped his tongue over hers once before pulling away to stare into her eyes, smiling at how they glazed over and her pupils struggled to dilate properly. 

“I want to hear you sing, Songbird. And I’ll make you sing anytime I feel like it.” He carded a hand through her hair with his free hand, giving her throat another squeeze as she pulled in a rasping breath that sounded ominously like a death rattle. 

“Do you trust me?” 

She nodded again, sure that it was the last thing she would ever hear as he closed off her airway completely and pressed her harder into the dining room floor. 

“Good girl.” 

He pulled his hand away and Songbird immediately gasped for air, practically choking on the first breath as he stood and surveyed his arms. Tears streamed freely as relief flooded her mind, and her chest heaved with her body’s anguished attempt to reclaim the oxygen she had lost. She brought her hand to her throat, gingerly touching the painful ring of bruises that was already forming, as if she needed to reassure herself that his hand was gone. 

Songbird turned on her side and curled her body into a tight ball, shuddering as she considered how close to death she had come. She pressed her palms together and held them in front of her lips, her mouth moved in a silent prayer as she thanked God for the cool air that filled her with renewed hope with every breath. 

“Get up and get the first aid kit, Songbird. Come bandage my arms for me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	7. Timid and Tender

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie finds warmth in Herschel's arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Intimate whumper, creepy whumper, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Annie Flashback, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, snow storm, extreme cold, collared, chained, cuddling whumper, touch starved, recalling trauma, recalling abuse, fucked up headspace
> 
> [RECORD: Tell Me True by Sarah Jarosz](https://open.spotify.com/track/4AEVv5490RGHIjzY3Co8mr?si=tqE0A0sqQYa3f8iPY6gNFg)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=hTNb1XQ-Qsu_CcXdOFQzCw)

The snow had fallen steadily over the last two days, building up around the house in huge piles that stood firm against the winter winds. Herschel had abandoned his attempts to complete any more of the chores and instead took shelter in the house with a warm fire and a glass of whiskey. 

Annie had stayed huddled in her corner, the chain that connected her collar to the anchor on the floor stubbornly maintaining it’s cool even as the living room slowly warmed around them. The feeling of icy metal hanging heavily against her skin kept her shivering and quiet, desperate to sit closer to the fire but terrified to ask Herschel for any more time off of her chain. 

She had earned enough trust to be allowed free of the chain to cook and clean and help Herschel around the house, but he was quick to clip the chain back to her collar if he didn’t plan on hovering over her shoulder to keep her in line. Annie wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to keep some of her body heat from fading into the cold corner of the room, chancing a longing glance at Herschel. He sat in his usual chair with an afghan that looked older than him draped over the arm beside him, a cigar between his fingers and his eyes closed as he relaxed into the sound of the crackling fire. She quickly shut her own thoughts out of her mind, frantically telling herself that it was the blanket she wanted, not Herschel. 

But, when she closed her eyes, the image of his face - relaxed and peaceful - crept quickly back to the front of her mind.

Annie couldn’t deny her thoughts, she knew that she was longing for more than the blanket and the seat close to the fire. She wanted to be near him. She wanted to feel the soft flutter in her stomach that only he caused, to feel the security of his presence as he stood near her, to feel the warmth and safety of his hands on her. 

It made no sense to her, how she could yearn for the same hands that were capable of causing her so much pain, how she delighted in his attention and affection even as she felt terror at the edges of her mind. She knew that her only thought should be getting away, escaping to the familiarity and safety of her life before, of her family. She knew that was all she should want in the entire world, but all Annie could think of was being closer to the man who had stolen her away from her entire life and caused her so much pain and heartache. All she could think about was how she wanted to stay safe at his side in that moment, hidden from the winds whipping against the windows. 

Annie sighed heavily, too lost in the whirlwind of her thoughts to stop herself. The little urge to be close to him had spiraled into what she was sure was outright need over the two days of constant snowfall, but she knew there was little she could truly do to satisfy her sudden desire for closeness with the man she was so afraid of. Annie opened her eyes to try and steal another look at him, but she was met with his vivid blue eyes staring back at her, settled on her with frightening intensity. 

“I-I’m sorry -” she started, her mind scrambling to undo whatever annoyance she had caused.

“There’s a draft,” Herschel said, cutting her off with the matter of fact comment. Annie stared, open mouthed as shock kept her from forming a response. 

“The windows,” he gestured, eyes still pinning her in place. “They make that corner cold in winter. Are ya cold?” 

She nodded silently, afraid that speaking would only incur more of his unpredictable wrath. It had become incredibly clear to her that speaking to him was the fastest way to set him off, and so she struggled to learn how to adequately communicate with him in the silence, forcing herself to overlook the cruel irony of his choice of ‘Songbird’ for a sort of pet name. She shrank further into the corner as he set his cigar in the crystal ashtray and stood, watching her closely for a moment before walking over to her. 

Herschel crouched in front of her and wrapped a hand around the chain hanging from her collar. His gaze was unsettlingly focused, as if he was looking straight through her while he thought for a moment. Annie surprised herself as she impulsively moved closer to him, her cheeks burning with her flush of shame at her own eagerness to get closer to him. 

“You ain’t gonna do anythin’ stupid?” 

Annie’s eyes widened at his question but she inched closer as she shook her head. 

Herschel nodded and gave the chain a gentle tug, coaxing her closer so he could unclip the chain from her collar and let it drop to the floor. 

She froze as Herschel wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the ground. She gripped the collar of his v-neck tee shirt, a small part of her afraid even as he cradled her against his chest and carried her back to his chair. He kept her pressed close to him as he sat, settling her in his lap as he retrieved his cigar and made himself comfortable. Annie sighed softly as she rested her head on his chest, her fingers tracing his collarbones above the neck of his soft cotton shirt. It took her a moment to relax in his lap, despite her desire to be close to him. She had no idea what she should or shouldn’t do, how she was or wasn’t allowed to touch him. 

Annie almost yelped when he reached up and threaded his fingers through her auburn curls. The tenderness of his touch was almost frightening but Annie couldn’t stop herself from closing her eyes and leaning into him, pressing herself closer to his chest as she savored every touch that didn’t come with pain, guilt, or degradation. He played with her hair absentmindedly as he continued to puff on his cigar, his fingers dragging over scalp until Annie was lulled into an almost unresponsive state of bliss. The quiet affection, the soft touches, the warmth of his body against hers, the steady sound of his heartbeat as she laid against his chest, all combined into one of the first moments of true comfort that Annie had experienced since being taken. 

A cool breeze snaked into the room from under the old front door and Annie shivered at the sudden chill that dragged her out of the cozy moment she had been lost in. She felt her skin prickle with goosebumps as she tensed against his chest, hoping that the fire would rewarm her skin quickly. 

Herschel’s hand stopped in her hair and Annie’s heart dropped. She was overcome with worry that she had ruined the moment of his kindness. He pulled his fingers free of her curls and a quiet whine slipped from her lips before Annie could stop herself. He chuckled quietly, the deep sound vibrating through his chest and almost warming the icy feeling of fear that had flooded her veins. 

He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer to his chest. “I ain’t movin’ you, just gettin’ the blanket for you.” 

He pulled the blanket out and draped it over Annie as he slouched down into the chair so that she could lay more comfortably against his chest. His hand moved in soothing circles over her back, rubbing the soft, worn-in fabric of the afghan against her to create a warmth that blossomed over her back and spread slowly through her body. She let her eyes drift closed as they began to feel heavier, the comfort and safety of Herschel’s embrace allowing her to truly relax for the first time she could remember in far too long. 

Annie woke with a start, gasping for air as the nightmare faded from her consciousness. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she realized she wasn’t on the freezing hardwood floor that she usually slept on. She took a deep, steadying breath and was surprised to feel the weight of Herschel’s arm draped over her waist. She blinked again as her mind processed everything, as she recalled falling asleep in his arms - as she realized she was still in his arms and at some point he had carried her to his bed. The snow continued to fall as he tightened his grip, pulling her into the cage of his embrace as Annie slipped back into the warm, heavy sleep that reached up to steal her away again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	8. Here In The Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie and Herschel kiss by candlelight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Intimate whumper, creepy whumper, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Annie Flashback, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, snow storm, extreme cold, collared, chained, mentions of past burning, lighter, cuddling whumper, touch starved, fucked up headspace
> 
> [RECORD: Where Is Love Now by Nickel Creek](https://open.spotify.com/track/3PCCkanPy2LPDsMhd115GQ?si=jYWL6I9QRfKPMWrlPdP5fQ)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=FeQKH-x7RL2Gv4wLqyuNhQ)

Annie sat timidly at Herschel’s feet, leaning against his knee as he absently wound her curls around his finger. She shivered and pressed closer as the wind snaked under the gap at the bottom of the front door, chilling her even as Herschel’s body heat settled against her like a boulder warmed by the summer sun. The harsh winter storm howled around the house, whistling as it cut across sharp corners and skipped over the uneven spots in the wood. She knew that this was an unusually difficult storm, uncharacteristic for the early winter, but Annie still jumped with a small gasp when the power cut out and they were plunged into darkness. 

Herschel sighed and gave her hair a final, affectionately gentle tug before he got up and disappeared into the kitchen. Annie bit her lip as she tried to decide what to do, caught between the desire to help and keep close to him and her fearful determination to stay good and obedient, to not move without being told. She shrank into herself as an especially persistent gust of wind rattled the windows, the glass creaking in the quiet of the snow as the panes rattled ever so slightly. The storm set her into an eerie silence that left her uneasy and nervous, making her all the more aware of how alone she was, how much she wanted to _not_ be alone in that house. 

Her desire to be near him, her low yearning for his warmth quickly built up until it was unbearable and Annie resolved to go to him, already settled on using a wish to help as an excuse to stay near him. But as she moved to stand Herschel’s footsteps in the hall signaled his approach and she felt her nerves settle as he returned with an armful of candles. She timidly moved closer and helped him stand the white candles up on the table, organizing them with the tallest in the middle to make it easier to light the assortment of candles. 

She flinched as he pulled his favorite min-torch lighter from his back pocket and flicked the flame to life, remembering the moments the bright blue flame had been turned on her. Herschel slowly lit the candles they had set up on the little table in the living room, paying no mind to how Annie tentatively inched closer until she was once again pressed against his side. 

She closed her eyes against another high pitched whistle of wind cascading down the Tennessee mountains. Herschel’s slight movements as he continued to light each candle, one by one, were somehow comforting as she relaxed into his side and let her body move with his. She hadn’t realized how far into the trance of comfort she had fallen until he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his side as he sat on the floor and leaned back against the couch, his eyes shining with the flicker of the flames. She curled into his side, her hand laid gently over his chest as she gazed up at him. It never failed to surprise Annie how handsome he was when the cruelty faded from the angled lines of his face. But, in the jumping light of the emergency candles, he was truly beautiful and Annie felt as though she may have been seeing him for the first time. 

He glanced down at her and raised his brows, surprised at how intently she was staring up at him. “What’s on your mind, Songbird?”

Annie’s stomach coiled tightly as she bit back the automatic impulse to respond. She shook her head slowly and looked down, moving her fingers in small circles on his chest. 

Herschel gripped her chin tenderly, lifting her gaze back to his and searching her eyes for a moment. he stared for seconds that seemed to last forever, quickly making Annie’s heart race and her breath catch in her throat. 

“You are beautiful, you know,” he said quietly, staring at her with a fondness that made butterflies turn circles in her stomach. “Far too beautiful.” 

Annie’s cheeks flushed at his praise and a new, unexpected warmth shot through her as he softly brushed his lips over hers before catching her in a surprisingly intimate kiss. She froze beneath him but rapidly felt herself melting into him, losing herself in a kiss that she could almost fool herself into being loving.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	9. The Edge, Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NSFW - Herschel enjoys some time with Annie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Dead dove, do not eat. NSFW. Dubcon, forced orgasm, dubcon fingering, dubcon oral, sex toys.
> 
> [RECORD: The One That Got Away by The Civil Wars](https://open.spotify.com/track/3W2G2Bwt9UAM0sgUVhOC6E?si=nEyLLRohQ_yL8ovUFn6kHg)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=FeQKH-x7RL2Gv4wLqyuNhQ)

Annie shuddered as she hovered at the edge of her climax, unable to dive into the overwhelming pleasure that was just out of her reach. Herschel’s touch was unpredictable and exact, carefully bringing her closer to her orgasm and pulling her back, over and over again. She arched desperately beneath him, pleading with her body, so tightly wound that she was struggling not to abandon her rules entirely and beg for release.  
She whined softly, looking up at him with heavily lidded eyes that were glazed with pleasure and distress all rolled together. He smiled and Annie whined again, trying to press herself harder against his hand without moving from the position he had instructed her to stay in.  
He circled her clit again, smiling at how her hips chased his finger. One more teasing circle, one more moment of watching her suffer so exquisitely, and he finally gave her what she wanted, what she needed so badly.  
Her climax crashed over her, forced onto her nerves with the direct, rolling pressure of Herschel’s finger to her clit. Annie’s gasp was loud enough that for a flicker of a second she feared punishment, but her thoughts quickly disappeared into the white hot bliss that consumed her, set fire to her nerves, and pushed her to a point that she didn’t know she could reach.  
A shiver ran through her as Herschel moved his hand and the sensation slowly dissipated, allowing her to ease back into herself. Annie struggled to catch her breath, waiting for the room to stop spinning as Herschel ran featherlight fingers down her inner thighs.  
She moved her hands from the headboard, following the urge to reach for him, but his soft chuckle stopped her.  
“Oh no Darlin’, we ain’t done yet.”  
Annie’s eyes went wide but she gripped the headboard again, obediently keeping as still as she could while Herschel got up to get something from the closet. He turned back to her with a black box and a grin that made butterflies flutter wildly in her stomach.  
“I got this for ya,” he opened the box and slowly tipped a long, glass toy into his hand, his voice low and gravelly. “Been waitin’ to use it.”  
Cold glass touched her inner thigh, drawing a line of ice from the inside of her knee to the sensitive skin that tickled at the top of her thigh. Annie moaned softly, lifting her hips even as she was sure that she couldn’t handle another moment of stimulation. But Herschel’s smooth chuckle made her body respond on it’s own and she continued to offer herself to him.  
The cold tip pressed against her entrance and Annie gasped, her breath stolen by the unexpected jolt of pleasure that ripped through her as he pushed the tip inside of her. But the explosion of pleasure was quickly followed by a sharp spike of pain that cut through the fog of the orgasm that was still hovering at her peripherals.  
With a gentle shush, he pulled the toy back and worked his thumb over her clit, bringing her body back into the warm daydream of arousal that still clung to the edges of her mind.  
Her grip on the headboard tightened as he pressed his lips to her stomach, kissing down her body until he breathed over her clit and pulled a sweet, needy whimper from her. Annie could feel him smile as he pressed a kiss to her clit, a soft moment of reverence for her tender body before he moved his tongue in a tight, targeted circle as he slowly worked the toy deeper inside of her.  
The sounds of Annie’s pleasure were the only thing to cut through the silence, sighs and gasps and moans and whimpers as he forced her to another edge that she wasn’t sure she could even find.


	10. Annie In the Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie goes into the ground. Songbird rises from the grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Intimate whumper, creepy whumper, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, Annie Flashback, intimate whumper, creepy whumper, BURIED ALIVE, fear of death, anxiety, intense fear, exhaustion, mention of being caged, human captivity, withheld food, weak with hunger, put in coffin, buried in the woods, handmade coffin, difficulty breathing, convinced she’s died, reborn, broken whumpee
> 
> [RECORD: Old Churchyard by The Wailin' Jennys](https://open.spotify.com/track/6qKlJL60O5C2wTeOmZ43Xh?si=lKZsbMO1TiOGCbfT-Utrew)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=m6svAiWVTJCikyG8v9YK8g)

Annie whimpered quietly as Herschel looped the length of rope into the ring on her collar and gave her a sharp pull, forcing her to bend down slightly as she stumbled forward. His lips quirked in a half smile as she took a moment to regain her balance, her legs unsteady beneath her weight as she stood for the first time in days. Her legs were covered in the imprints of little squares from the bottom of the metal cage, her muscles ached and her knees felt weak from being folded under her for so long. Annie felt hunger twist in her stomach as she thought of the days he had left her alone without food and the single bottle of water he gave her each day. 

Her eyes were heavy with exhaustion and tears, but she forced herself to look up at him as she waited for a hint of what he wanted from her. She stared for a moment, tried desperately to read his expression, to gauge his mood, but she was met only with the hard blue of his eyes and a stony smile that didn’t extend past the forced curve of his lips. 

The chilled autumn breeze crawled up the hem of the thin cotton tee shirt he had given her and sent a fresh wave of pain through her muscles. The intensity of the shiver that passed through her was startling and she struggled to walk at his pace. Weakness and hunger dug into her body, making every slight movement feel like she was tearing her own limbs apart. He tugged at the rope connected to her collar, forcing her to keep moving with no consideration for how she had suffered during the three days he had left her alone and hungry in the tiny metal dog cage. 

She was almost grateful when he forced her into the cab of his truck rather than the bed, the sputtering warmth of the old heater was almost enough to keep her mind from spiraling into a panic at the realization that she didn’t know where he was taking her. She curled up in the passenger seat, staring at the hole where the door handle should have been, and swallowed the fear that caught at the back of her throat. 

She had already spent three days starving in a cage, left on the screened porch with no regard for the rain and the freezing wind. She was sure that he had already broken her, that he had already erased all sense of hope that she had left. Annie wondered what else he could do to her, how could he possibly hurt her any more than he already had? She curled up in the passenger seat and leaned into the door, determined to simply enjoy the small blessing of hot air that blew from the dash and slowly eased the chill that had settled deep under her skin. She didn’t pay attention to how far away they seemed to be going, she didn’t even look up when she felt the road become uneven and rough beneath the tires. Her mind was so addled with hunger and exhaustion that she could focus on nothing more than the heat and the soft give of the cushioned seat after days huddled in the cage. 

The truck lurched to a stop and the sound of Herschel sliding the old, stainless steel gear shift into park yanked Annie out of the comfortable haze of warmth. She looked at Herschel but was met only with his cryptic half smile, his expression gave her nothing but a distinctly hopeless feeling that sunk deep in her stomach like a stone in a river. She forced herself to look away from him, to scan the heavy forest that he had driven them into, but it didn’t look any different from the rest of the Appalachians. 

He got out and stood at the open driver’s side door, holding his hand out to her expectantly. Annie struggled to slide across the bench seat, her body still stiff and aching as her muscles slowly came back to life. The cold wind bit into her skin almost instantly as she let Herschel help her out of the truck, he held her upright with steady hands as she swayed slightly at the weight of her own body on her weakened knees. 

“Almost there, Darlin’. Don’t give up on me just yet.”

There was a hint of warmth in his voice that soothed her fluttering nerves, and Annie clung to him gratefully with delicate hands on his powerful forearms. She felt the ripple of tension go through his muscles and looked up at him questioningly, but still he offered nothing in his expression. He held her weight for a moment, offering her a quiet comfort as she tried to force her body to work at the same capacity as her mind. 

The sky was dark grey and the air was wet with the fine mist that always came just before the rain. The added cover of the heavy trees this high up in the mountains left them standing in long shadows that felt like strips of night creeping into the afternoon, greedy for as much time as they could steal away from the sun that usually dominated the mountains. Annie looked up at the sky as the first drops of rain tore themselves free of the clouds, closing her eyes as a single raindrop splashed over her face. The oversized beads of cold water fell to the earth quickly, filling the quiet of the woods with the first sounds of a classic Tennessee rainstorm. 

He guided her into the woods, walking slowly to accommodate her faltering steps and obvious exhaustion. The path was clearly not one that was walked often, the underbrush had grown over the edges of the narrow trail and Herschel had to help her over larger branches of trees that had fallen and been left for patches of moss to take over. The trees thickened as they walked, as if the forest coveted the darkness and refused to let the sun do more than leak in through the cracks and holes in the heavy canopy. But the rain was still there, welcome in the deep woods of the mountains even where the sun was not. 

It was impossible to tell how far they had walked, how long the trip into the heart of the woods actually was. Annie’s body ached in a deep, throbbing way that she was sure she would feel for the rest of her life. Every step forced the exhaustion further into her muscles until she felt like it had become a permanent part of her, as if the tiredness had attached itself to her bones and settled comfortably beneath the muscles where it could continue to nudge at her until her body finally gave out. 

Herschel held a hand out to her and guided her forward on the path, quickening her pace as he led her to a small clearing in the dense forest. Annie felt the exhaustion wash over her in a fresh wave and her eyes suddenly felt heavy. Her head felt heavy, her arms, her everything felt heavy with the intensity of the fatigue that seemed to radiate from her bones and creep through her muscles like hardening concrete. 

She looked up at the clearing and her breath caught in her throat. Fear ripped through her, sending a chill through her veins like a flood of ice water as she stared at her worst fear. Annie’s knees went weak with shock and her legs gave out beneath her with a small cry. Herschel caught her easily, his arms wrapped around her waist as he held her tight against his chest and whispered soothing sounds against her ear. Her lower lip trembled as she held tight to his arms, her lips moved in almost silent prayers for mercy from the man that was holding her so tenderly even as he forced her closer to her worst nightmare. 

The simple pine box sat in the dirt, the red stain of the finished wood a vivid contrast to the rich black soil and the rough bark of the trees that surrounded them. The hole in the ground was deep, dark, like a window into the abyss. A hard sob stole her voice and the only sound she could manage was a whimper that sounded pathetic even to her. 

She tried to stand on her own, tried to take her own weight on unsteady legs, but even with the added stability of Herschel’s embrace Annie still couldn’t suppress her terror enough to hold herself upright. She tightened her grip on his arms and twisted to look at him, her eyes wide with desperation. 

“Herschel, please don’t -” a thick sob broke through her words and Annie closed her eyes in an attempt to focus on forcing her plea to the surface. “I - I can’t, Herschel, I can’t do this…”

He shushed her softly as he continued to half carry, half drag her closer to the wooden box that Annie was sure would be her end. She whined in fear as her eyes settled back on the massive hole, sure that death would reach from the black haze and drag her into her personal hell. 

Panic crawled up through her chest and settled in her throat, Annie could hardly breathe around the feeling and her chest burned as he lifted her off the ground and carried her to the edge of the hole. She couldn’t stop herself from looking down into the heart of the Appalachian mountain. The soil was wet and dark, a shade of black that was so deep and enthralling that she wasn’t sure the hole even had a bottom. She bit her lip and clutched his arms tighter as she fought to slow her racing heartbeat. She could feel his determination in his grip and Annie knew that there was nothing she could do to change his mind. He was going to put her in the cherry stained coffin and put her in the hole in the ground, he was going to drown her in the lush soil of the mountain that had once offered her so much comfort. 

“Alright darlin’,” he said softly, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Time to go.”

“No, please!” Her horror pulsed through her and Annie felt the exhaustion give way to the overwhelming urge to fight, to get away from him, to survive. She reared back in an attempt to make contact with his face with the back of her skull, but he merely lifted her higher off the ground and moved easily to position her over the coffin. 

Annie twisted in his arms and for a moment she thought she could get free, his grip loosened for a moment but Herschel easily readjusted his hands to hold her firmly around her ribs with a low chuckle. “Come on, little Songbird, into the box ya go!” 

He dropped her unceremoniously into the box with a hard thud. The pain of the impact spread quickly through her back and up her neck, thinning out in a sharp ache that radiated in her scalp. She moaned quietly and her eyes fluttered open to see him grinning down at her for a split second before the heavy wood lid slammed closed and engulfed her a terrifyingly deep darkness. 

Annie breathed in a shuddering gasp, terrified that it would be the last breath of fresh air she would get as she felt the coffin drag across the ground. It rumbled against the uneven dirt for a few moments before it dropped out from underneath her, she shrieked at sudden, short freefall and groaned at the renewed pain that spiked through her when the coffin hit the bottom of the hole. 

The sound of dirt raining down on the wood lid yanked her out of the fog of pain and she frantically pressed her hands against the lid, pushing uselessly against the smooth wood as another shovel of dirt fell onto the top of the coffin. Her voice was paralyzed as she listened to more and more dirt pouring into the hole, the heavy thud of the earth muffled the sounds of the woods as the dense, wet dirt piled on top of the wooden lid. 

She screamed into the darkness, her heart pounding in her ears as the panic took over her senses and stole her ability to think rationally. Tears streamed down her face, quickly trailed over her temples and soaked into her hair. Annie knew that her screams would achieve nothing, that if they hadn’t inspired sympathy already they never would. She knew that her screams were likely already disappearing into the soul of the mountain, that they were lost long before they could reach the surface and appeal to Herschel. 

She knew that she was unlikely to see anything but the darkness ever again, she knew that she had no chance of freeing herself from death’s embrace. She knew that her screams were the last thing she was ever going to hear.

So she screamed. She screamed until her head ached and her ears rang. She screamed until her throat was raw and dry, until her voice cracked and her screams faltered long before her lungs were empty. Annie screamed until she was breathless and exhausted, until her screams were no louder than horrified whispers. She screamed until the coffin was filled with only the sounds of her desperate gasps for air as she realized that she had leached the oxygen from the darkness all too quickly. 

It was impossible to accurately judge how much time had passed, the darkness gave no indication of how many seconds had ticked by, how many minutes had passed as she screamed into the nothing of the dark. Time seemed to drag over her senses, blanketing Annie in a terrifying stillness that made her wonder if death had already touched her and she was simply existing in the void of lifelessness. 

Annie closed her eyes and waited. She waited for nothing and everything all at once, waited for the end of her world as she prayed for something to break through the darkness and take her anywhere other than six feet deep in the Appalachian Mountains. Her lips moved in prayer but she couldn’t connect her thoughts to her voice. The only sound that filled the coffin was the gasps of her prayers as she wrapped her arms around herself in a feeble attempt to stop the shivers that were slowly crawling over her skin. 

The sounds of the birds chirping in the trees grew louder and Annie was sure that her soul was slowly working its way towards the surface. She smiled softly, grateful that death brought the sounds of nature with it. It became easier to breathe as the sounds moved closer, as if her lungs were giving up the need for oxygen. Annie felt sure she was moving across the end of the mortal coil, moving towards whatever came after death as she breathed in and suddenly was sure she smelt fresh air again. 

She gasped at the flood of light as the coffin lid was shoved aside and she clenched her eyes shut in shock. She was unprepared for warm hands on her cold skin, for Herschel’s rough, work-worn palms holding her gently by her upper arms. She opened her eyes to see him standing over her in the hole, smiling fondly. Annie opened her mouth to speak but could only manage a ragged breath of cool air. 

“It’s alright Songbird, I’ve got ya.” His voice was soft and gentle, and Annie was overwhelmed with relief and gratitude as she forced her eyes to focus on his features. She desperately gripped his forearms as he pulled her from the coffin and lifted her out of the hole, setting her on the ledge of damp soil and disturbed grass so he could effortlessly lift himself to the ground and help her stand. 

He cupped her cheeks in warm hands, tilting her face up so that her eyes met his. She stared into his eyes and a broken sob slipped into the space between them. Herschel’s gentle smile was all it took to break her, and Annie collapsed in his arms as a wave of relief crashed over her. He held her against his chest, rubbing her back in slow circles as she cried into his shirt. 

“That’s it Songbird, sing for me all ya want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	11. Frail Smiling Solace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Intimate whumper, creepy whumper, collar, captive whumpee, trauma bonding, traumatic affection, manipulation, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
> 
> [RECORD: Distress by Crooked Still](https://open.spotify.com/track/59Y9DoVh2U8Vnq0NBG6c63?si=ev9I6YriQjm4fAj007pD6A)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=TJS1J-zWRfK52PqYc4Nt-Q)

Annie curled into a ball at the far edge of the bed, careful not to allow herself to touch Herschel sleeping beside her. The chain that attached her collar to the bed frame was heavy and difficult for her to ignore, adding enough extra weight to the collar that moving didn’t seem to be worth the effort. Her body was weak and tired from how little she had been eating, her muscles burnt at even the slightest exertion, and Annie was sure that her heart rate would never slow again - that the constant fear and anxiety would leave her permanently on edge until Herschel killed her. 

Her breath caught in her throat as Herschel moved to his back and raised his arm up over his head, groaning quietly in his sleep. She swallowed against the fear that stuck in the back of her throat, forcing herself to take a deep breath to steady her nerves. The silence of the woods never seemed silent to Annie, it was full of the whispers of the mountains and echoes of the past, filling the night with the sounds of a world that was entirely alien to her. Even the stillness of the mountains was harsh and threatening, the glistening blanket of snow that came with the winter was delicate and beautiful but somehow needlessly cruel. 

She sighed quietly, staring at Herschel’s sleeping form in the bed beside her. It seemed that the mountains bred cruelty, that it was present in far more than the snow. But in the dead of night, with only the sound of soft breaths and wisps of wind, everything seemed softer, gentler. Even Herschel seemed to soften in the light of the moon streaking through the panes of glass and layers of ice. 

Her gaze moved down the line of his arm and over his chest, following the ridges of his ribs as she took in his work-worn body, the muscles hardened by long days of work high up in the mountains. Annie stopped at the sight of a small, circular scar nestled between two of his ribs. Her brows furrowed as she stared at it, too aware that it was a scar from a gunshot wound. 

Annie’s gaze flicked up to his face for a moment, reassuring herself that he was still sleeping before she reached out and gently ran her fingers over the scar, feeling the uneven, mottled skin under her soft touch. She bit her lip as she traced the edges of the scar, silently wondering who had inflicted it on him, who had been brave enough to point a gun at Herschel Boone. 

“Tha’s from Christie,” Herschel muttered, his voice raspy and half asleep. 

Annie gasped with surprise at the sound of his voice and quickly pulled her hand away from him. “I - I’m sorry,” her whisper was breathless and fearful, but Herschel didn’t seem to notice. 

He sighed heavily and looked at her, his eyes unnaturally bright in the moonlight. 

Annie felt trapped under his gaze, but it was somehow different than the predatory expression he usually looked at her with. The moment felt more open, almost intimate, and Annie bit her lip against the hope that sparked in her stomach. “Who is Christie?”

Herschel sighed again and looked up at the ceiling, as if he could search his thoughts if he looked away from her. “My ex wife, she did that b’fore takin’ off.” 

Annie nodded quietly, her gaze back on the scar that hid between the sharp lines of his ribcage. She held her breath as she reached out and touched it again, this time lighter and more careful. She ran her fingers over the scar and Herschel looked back at her for a moment before resting his hand over hers, pressing her palm to his ribcage for a moment before closing his eyes. 

“You should get s’more sleep. I pr’mise I ain’t gonna hurt’cha t’night.” 


	12. You Don't Need It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herschel gives Annie a permanent mark of ownership.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Intimate whumper, creepy whumper, branding, collar, mention of being buried alive, fear of death, captive whump, trauma bonding, traumatic affection, manipulation, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT
> 
> [I Can't Go On Without You by KALEO](https://open.spotify.com/track/1dX6oGAG5PaexuPj29PsYd?si=6MJyCPdGQDi3PpGKFA7g2Q)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=eiutHU3wRQqCZYQGf4F6SA)

Annie dropped the last few apples she could reach into the wooden crate before retreating slowly down the stepladder to the ground. She glanced down at the little bucket as she dusted her hands off on her jeans, pleased that she had filled it enough to make a pie and set some aside for canning for the winter. She looked out over the yard, over the field that stretched past Herschel’s neatly trimmed grass, and sighed as she noticed the sun starting to set over the treeline. It had been such a lovely day, warm and sunny, and Songbird always felt a little freer when she was out in the fresh air, surrounded by the sound of birds chirping and cicadas buzzing in the trees.

* * *

She lifted the crate and rested it against her hip, balancing its weight on her body as she made her way back to the house. She paused for a moment at the porch steps, her gaze lingering on the wooden post with the _BC_ burned into the wood. She ran her fingers over it, tracing the mark of the Boone Clan with a featherlight touch. It matched the lettering on her collar, burned dark into the leather just as it had been burned into the wood. The etching used to scare her, used to linger in the back of her mind with unending anxiety. Now it was like a mark of safety, a symbol that was well known in the area and served as an easy warning for anyone with less than honorable intentions. It was a symbol that Songbird had learned she could hide behind, that she could seek refuge in, a symbol of home.

She adjusted the crate and climbed the steps, listened to the familiar creak of the wood beneath her. She smiled at the groan of the old wood screen door pulling against spring-loaded hinges. She closed her eyes and took in the scent of fresh cut wood when she first stepped in the door. It was all so familiar, it had become the most secure kind of normal over the course of the 14 months she had been with Herschel. 

There was no longer any hesitation when she moved through the house, she simply went where she needed to be and kept out of Herschel’s way unless he wanted her attention. There were still bad days, days where she thought she would crawl into herself and disappear, days where she wished he would just kill her. But her life had mellowed out considerably and Herschel no longer hovered over her every move. She had some small freedoms that she treasured, that she was grateful for, and Songbird knew better than to complain about the downsides that came with them. 

When she rounded the corner to the kitchen, Annie was surprised to see Herschel standing over the stove, his back to her as he focused on whatever it was that he was doing. She set the crate of apples on the counter near the sink and regarded him for a second, trying to search for any signs of tension or unease in his body that would signal a bad mood. She found nothing and felt herself relax, the muscles in her stomach loosened as her mind breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Herschel?” She kept her voice soft, careful to maintain a gentle tone in case she was wrong about his mood. “Is there anything I can do to help you?”   
He turned to her with a bright, charming smile; the smile he knew never failed to catch her off guard and soften her a little to him. He was careful to stand in front of the burner, blocking it from her view as he pushed the sleeves of his thin sweater up his forearms and crossed his arms over his chest. She bit her lip and dread ****settled in her stomach as he watched her quietly, unable to hide the malicious glint in his eyes from her watchful gaze.

“I have a gift for ya, my little Songbird.” She caught the hint of his accent and anxiety coiled tighter in her chest; his accent only slipped out when he was angry or excited - and he wasn’t angry.   
Songbird swallowed, her throat suddenly dry and thick. “You - you don’t have to give me anything Herschel.” 

“I know I don’t Darlin’, but I think ya’ve earned this one.”

She frowned and her gaze flicked to the stove, she was suddenly focused on the fact that she couldn’t see what he’d been doing, that he’d been careful to turn in a way that would shield whatever it was from her view. “I think I’m okay,” she said softly, her mind desperately racing to find a way out. “I really haven’t done anything to deserve a gift.” 

“C’mere Annie,” he held a hand out to her, a command masquerading as an invitation. 

She felt her stomach sink, suddenly heavy with the dread that settled in her like an iron weight. She forced herself to move, to reach her trembling hand to his and let him tug her gently towards him. 

Herschel’s gaze softened as he settled Annie in front of him, her body almost touching his. She shuddered as he trailed a finger along the edge of her collar, his nail grazing the skin of her throat as he looked fondly at the worn, brown leather. “Y’know, I never thought ya’d look so damn pretty in a collar.”

She stared up at him, her eyes wide and pleading as she waited for any indication of what he was planning. She struggled to take a full breath, fear and anxiety wrapped tight around her to mimic the effects of a hand squeezing her throat, but she knew better than to look away from him in moments like this. Like a small animal being circled by a coyote, she knew that as soon as she looked away from the sharp edge in his gaze, he would pounce on her. 

He sighed, almost wistfully, as he hooked a finger under the collar and pulled her a fraction of an inch closer to him. Annie closed her eyes and swallowed, biting back the panic that surged in her at his playful demeanor.   
“I’m takin’ off your collar today, Annie.” 

His tone was low and soothing but Annie’s eyes went wide and her hand flew to the leather nonetheless. She knew in her mind what that meant; the collar was safe, it was an assurance that he wanted her, that he owned her. To take off the collar meant that she no longer survived under the umbrella of his mercy, it meant that he was done with her, ready to get rid of her. It meant that he was going to put her in the ground, like he almost did a year ago. 

“N-no -” she pulled away from him, stumbling backwards in fear as her hands flew to the collar. A small part of her was laughing at herself, laughing at the sudden desperation to keep the collar on. But a bigger part of her knew that the collar was a promise, a reassurance that he wasn’t going to take her life along with everything else. “I - Herschel I don’t want to take it off. I haven’t - I want to stay. Please, don’t take it off - _please_.” 

He chuckled and reached for her, swiping his thumb over her cheek to gently brush away the tears that she hadn’t realized were streaming down her face. 

“Oh Sweetheart,” he crooned at her, his smile terrifyingly soft. “You ain’t leavin’, I’m gonna make sure of it t’day.” 

Songbird sobbed but let him pull her back to him, she leaned against his chest with her hands balled into fists as he softly stroked her hair and shushed her, laughing at her reaction under his breath. “I - I don’t want to die,” she whispered into his sweater, lost in the desperation she was feeling. 

“Annie,” he said softly, “do ya trust me?”

She nodded miserably, the phrase drifting in her mind like a far off sound, tainted with the vivid memories of all the times he’d asked before. 

“Good girl,” he cooed at her and wrapped an arm around her waist, securing her against his body. “I’m takin’ your collar off, but you ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he lifted her chin so that she was looking into his eyes, his gaze insistent but soft. His accent was heavy, betraying his calm tone and signalling to her that he was far more keyed up than he let on. “You hear me?”

Annie stared at him, searching his eyes for a hint of deception but finding only patient determination. Her lower lip trembled as the fear settled deep in her stomach but forced herself to nod, resigned to the knowledge that she didn’t have a choice in whatever he had planned. 

He smiled at her and gripped her jaw, pulling her lips to his for a long, possessive kiss. 

Annie softened against him, comforted by the security of his affection. She pushed the torrent of thoughts from her mind, forced herself to focus on the promise he was offering, tried to still the fluttering in her stomach. He pulled away with a contented sigh, caressing her bottom lip with his thumb before he turned their bodies so that she could see the stove behind him.

Herschel watched as she looked over, his smile growing as he watched her expression change from cautious curiosity to outright horror. He had one of the burners switched on, the blue and white flame flickering over a metal branding iron with the distinct BC at the end of it. The same mark that adorned her collar, the post at the front porch, and various trees at the edge of his property. 

Fear washed over her and Annie stiffened before trying to shove away from him, desperate to escape his hold as she realized exactly why he was willing to remove her collar. “No, Herschel please -” she begged, the panic in her voice obvious as she pushed against his chest to get free of his grip. “ _Please_ don’t - I can’t -”

“Hush, it ain’t time to sing yet my pretty songbird,” he said lovingly as he tightened his grip on her waist, pinning her against him as she struggled. 

Annie could feel the bruises already forming as he held her tighter in response to her desperate attempt to escape him. She knew that she was too small, too weak to effectively fight him, but horror flared in her mind and her thoughts tunneled until the only thing she could coherently think about was the need to get away from him, to get away from the metal sitting in the fire. 

He ran a soothing hand up and down her back, slowly working his way up her spine as Annie cried quietly. They both knew what was coming, but she still inhaled sharply in shock as his fingers curled quickly in her collar and he forced her to bend forward over the counter. He leaned his weight into her neck, pinning her down as she grasped desperately for anything within reach to help her get free of his grasp. 

She cried out, fear clouding her mind as she felt the cool blade of a knife on her spine, heard the tear of her shirt as he pulled the knife through the fabric to expose her skin, felt the cotton slide helplessly down her arms as the ruined garment fell away to give him access to her unmarked skin. 

She sobbed and reached blindly, her fingers passing over the ceramic canisters on the counter, her hand pushing something over the edge of the counter to crash to the floor. He pressed harder, his hand digging into the back of her neck as he forced her against the countertop and trailed his fingers down her spine with a featherlight touch. 

Annie froze, her body going stiff as she felt his hand leave her back and heard the branding iron being lifted from the stove top. His grip on her collar tightened, pulling the leather just enough that she couldn’t get a full breath between the restriction at her throat and the panic in her chest. “H-Herschel,” she gasped helplessly, “Herschel please don’t - I can’t - _please_?” 

He smiled at the tremor in her voice, pleased by her easy vulnerability as she shuddered with fear beneath him. He looked at the branding iron, twisting it in his grip to make sure that the BC was perfectly upright and would line up with her spine correctly. His lips twitched in a smile as he held it close to her, preparing to press the mark of his family into her unmarred skin. 

She could feel the heat hovering just above her for a second, and time seemed to slow for Annie. Her world narrowed until it was nothing but the blinding pain as he pressed the brand to her back, her senses were instantly overwhelmed with the sound of the metal searing into her flesh, the smell of her skin burning as he permanently marked her as his own. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream, unable to pull enough air into her lungs to force the sound out.   
****“That’s it baby,” Herschel said softly as he held her down. “Just give in to it for me, we’re almos’ done, Darlin’.”

She slumped against the counter, her body going limp as the instinct to fight faded into the bright, all-encompassing sensation that ripped through her. He lifted the brand, ignoring the way that Annie’s skin clung to the metal, and set it back on the stove. 

A whimper fell from her lips as Herschel leaned his weight into the back of her neck despite her inability to move beneath him. The quirk of his lips betrayed his solemn silence as Herschel ran a finger over the fresh wound, eliciting a sharp hiss of breath and twitch of her muscles as he renewed the agony with the tender gesture. 

The collar loosened around her throat and she pulled in a desperately deep breath as his hand slipped free of the leather that had given her so much comfort. Herschel gently pulled her up from the counter and turned her to face him. Annie’s eyes were glazed over and unseeing, she was almost unresponsive to Herschel tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and kissing her forehead. 

The room spun and she swayed slightly, she gratefully leaned her weight into his chest as Herschel pulled her close to him and wrapped his arms around her. Annie heard herself whimper quietly as Herschel ran a hand down her back lightly, but the sound of her own voice was almost foreign to her. She had never heard her voice sound so ragged, so hoarse and tired as her body fell into a haze as the pain settled somewhere in her mind.

Annie couldn’t help but stiffen as she heard the buckle on her collar click against itself, she didn’t bother trying to hide her quiet whine as Herschel slid it away her neck. “Hush, my pretty Songbird, ya don’t need it anymore.” He set it on the counter and Annie moaned softly at the chill that ran over her freshly bare throat. 

Goosebumps raced down her arms as Herschel trailed his fingers over her throat, lovingly caressing the skin that had been covered for so long in the physical reminder of his ownership, in the symbol of her captivity. Annie turned her face to his chest and closed her eyes as a tear slipped down her cheek, the stinging ache in her back loomed heavily in the back of her mind as she fought to keep her mind quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	13. "It Hurts, Doesn't It?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, ropes, bound, hanging from arms

“It hurts doesn’t it?” Annie forced herself to breathe, shaking with the effort as she hung from the rope wrapped too tightly around her wrists. Her shoulders throbbed in tandem with her pulse and she felt blood drip down her arms in long thin lines as the rope cut deeper into the tender skin of her wrists. “You did it to yourself, it didn’t have to be this hard,” he said as he gave the other end of the rope a sharp pull, hoisting her higher onto the balls of her feet. She sobbed miserably as he tied his end of the rope to the anchor and moved closer, ignoring the way she flinched when he reached out to wipe one of the streaks of blood from her soft, olive skin. “We’ll see if you still want to try something so stupid again after you hang here for a few hours, hmm?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	14. A Scar Amidst Her Freckles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Josiah comforts Songbird as she reminisces about an old wound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Scars, mentions of stabbing, mentions of knives, chronic pain, massage, mention of alcohol/drinking, lady whumpee, intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, drunk whumper
> 
> Josiah Blevins belongs to Lonesomehunter's [The Devil's Highway](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23187187/chapters/55504210)

Songbird closed her eyes and winced slightly as she tilted her head to the side, stretching the muscles of her neck and shoulder. The stab wound had long since healed, leaving nothing but a vivid, pink line of scar tissue where her shoulder met her neck. The wound was little more than a memory of a drunken slip of Josiah’s hand from her early days with the family, time had made it a part of her that felt as ordinary as her freckles or a birthmark. 

She traced her fingers over the scar, delicately touching the silky texture that didn’t match the softness of the rest of her skin. The nerves lit up with fresh pain despite her light touch, and Songbird sighed as she pressed her fingers into the muscle and moved them in slow circles. 

A large, warm hand settled over hers and Songbird jumped at the unexpected touch. She looked over her shoulder and smiled at Josiah, wondering silently at how he managed to move so quietly despite his impressive size. He took over massaging the scar, expertly working the painful knot of nerves beneath the skin with a sad expression as he avoided looking into her eyes. 

She knew that he harbored an overwhelming amount of guilt, that he still hadn’t forgiven himself for the ways he had tormented her when Herschel first brought her into the family. Every now and then, Songbird could see the anger and regret in his eyes. The way he mentally punished himself for how often he had delighted in the cruelty of his words, for how many bruises he had marked her with. But it was easy to see that his biggest regret was the day his knife had slipped and left them both with a permanent reminder of how cruel he could really be. 

Songbird made a quiet sound of pain as his fingers deftly worked into the rough tissue. He applied gentle pressure in an effort to break up the knots that had formed beneath the skin, hoping to ease the intensity of the pain that she still felt. It had been years since he had caused the original wound, but every now and then Songbird still felt the pain lance through her shoulder as clearly as if she had been freshly stabbed all over again. The brief moments of agony were like fire racing across her nerves, ripping through her in bursts of heat that never failed to stop her in her tracks. 

Josiah seemed to know when the memory prickled beneath her skin, always quick to offer a comforting touch to ease her suffering. But they both knew that the damage he had done, whatever the drunken slip of his hand had touched within her, would plague her senses for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	15. Not T'day Darlin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie spikes a fever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Lady whumpee, intimate whumper, mention of branding, fever, bridal carry, sick whumpee, cared for by whumper, cuddling with whumper, clingy whumpee

Songbird closed her eyes and held the edge of the counter, her knuckles going white as she clung for balance. The deep throbbing that had started behind her eyes rapidly moved down her spine and settled in her hips, each movement adding to the ache that made her sway slightly as she struggled to keep herself upright. She took a slow breath as she prayed that it would quickly pass, but she could feel her body slowly giving in and her grip on the counter weakened.

She sighed at Herschel’s hand on the back of her neck. She hadn’t heard him move behind her, but she almost immediately lost herself in the security and comfort of his touch. She leaned into him and took a deep breath, grateful for the stability he offered as she rested her back against his chest. He gently swept her curls over her shoulder, exposing her neck so he could press a soft kiss to her freckled skin.

His lips lingered for a moment before he pressed the back of his hand to her cheek with a quiet hum. “You’re burnin’ up Songbird, you should stay in bed today.”

She protested quietly, muttering about cooking and cleaning and paperwork in the shop needing to be done. But Herschel simply chuckled and scooped her into his arms, holding her against his chest as he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“Not t’day Darlin’, you’re going back to bed. I’ll take care of the shop and you can worry about the rest tomorrow.”

She clutched his shirt and pressed her cheek to his chest, too focused on the warmth that radiated from his body to press the issue. He carried her effortlessly to their bed, smiling at how easily she relaxed into his arms. She tightened her grip on the soft cotton of his tee shirt and whimpered slightly as he moved to pull away from her. A chill crept through her body and she shivered, suddenly desperate for the warmth of Herschel’s embrace as she burrowed deeper under the blankets.

He laid down beside her and gently pulled her to his chest, all too aware that if he didn’t stay close she would be up and out of bed in an attempt to do her usual chores. Herschel had seen her through a fever once before, when the brand on her back was healing and she had refused to acknowledge it until she fainted in the kitchen. She snuggled into his chest even as she mumbled about her to-do list for the day, and Herschel watched her quickly slip into a restless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	16. Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Herschel beats the fuck out of some asshole harassing Songbird.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT! NSFW, lady whumpee, intimate whumper, no holds barred beatdown, broken teeth, broken ribs, possible broken nose, possible broken jaw, blood, unable to breath, dry heaving, whumper protecting whumpee, possessive whumper
> 
> [Under Your Spell](https://open.spotify.com/track/4vBlqfBtNrLUNGUT8KLewK?si=mUwpRNg4Sf2ZSfnyq0BUQQ)  
> [Hershey's Kisses Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5PHkmkjskQVWFrZEcqijCc?si=KXmAFAyfTsCM6N7qELq9TA)

The sun was bright and comforting, it shone through the clouds and thawed the layer of frost that settled over the early spring mornings. Songbird smiled to herself as she sat at the little café table, closing her eyes as the sun warmed her freckled skin and the birds chirped in the trees nearby. It was a rare outing for them, most mornings were filled with chores and work in the shop and Herschel preferred to get things done early in the day so that his tasks didn’t extend into his evenings. 

She heard the whispers of the men at the table nearby but paid no mind. It never bothered her when men whispered about wanting to approach her, it often only took a quick warning from their friends and they disappeared. The town was well acquainted with the Boone family, Herschel’s father was almost prolific for the violence of his crime and most people understood that the mean streak had carried on in Herschel. Few were willing to test the family’s patience, no matter how pretty and susceptible to flirtation they thought Songbird was. 

But today the whispers continued and the young man didn’t heed the warnings of his buddies. Songbird sighed as he sauntered to her little table and sat down in the metal chair beside hers. She pinned him with a patient but stern gaze, hoping that her disinterest was clear despite her refusing to waste her voice on him. But the young man was undeterred. 

He flashed her a smile that she was sure most of the girls in town found charming, his boyish features lit up and almost pretty in the morning sun. “Well hey there,” he said good naturedly, his accent clear and pronounced and almost overwhelming. 

She tried to close her eyes and relax, but the grate of metal on concrete and the prickling sensation that quickly spread over her skin made it hard to ignore his attempt to get her attention by moving closer to her. 

“I hear they call ya Songbird, that right?”

Her stomach began to tighten at his determination, she knew it wouldn’t be long before Herschel reappeared with their coffees and she didn’t want to see what would come of the overconfident boy if he was still there. Still she said nothing, sure that her silence would be more than enough of a hint for him to go back to his friends. 

“Why don’t’cha sing for me, ‘ey Songbird?” He reached out and brushed his fingers over her cheek, his grin widening as she flinched away from him in disgust and offense. “Come on, pretty girl like you shouldn’t be out what that creepy fucker,” he gestured into the coffee shop, pointing his thumb at Herschel. 

Songbird shook her head and stood, her instincts screaming at her to go to Herschel and get away from this cocky kid as fast as she could. He grabbed her elbow in a bruising grip and flashed her that same boyish smile, but she could no longer find any charm in the seemingly innocent smirk. She tried to pull away from him, jerking her arm back as a spike of fear pushed through her mind, but he held tight and she could feel his fingers digging deeper into her soft skin. 

“Where ya goin’ pretty bird?”

Songbird opened her mouth to respond, finally fed up enough to use her voice, but a familiar hand on her shoulder stopped her. Relief flooded through her and she stepped back as the man let go of her arm, pressing her back to Herschel’s chest as she tried to hide in the safety he offered. 

“Ye’d best be movin’ on,” Herschel said, his voice dangerously low. 

The man arched a brow at her and looked up at Herschel with an amused smirk. “The li’l lady has ‘er own voice ya know. She can tell me fuck off if she wants ta, but so far she ain’t told me to to go away.” 

Herschel’s grip on her shoulder tightened almost painfully as he pushed Songbird aside and stepped closer to him. She grabbed his arm, hoping to catch his gaze and distract him long enough to put a stop to what she knew was coming. 

“I’m tellin’ ya now,” Herschel growled at him, “git goin’ ‘fore I git rid’a ya m’self.”

The man gave Herschel a light shove, taunted him by pressing his fingers into his chest and sneering at him. Songbird shrank away from them, making herself smaller as she watched the signs of Herschel’s rising temper. 

He flashed Songbird his tiresome boyish smile, grinned at her with a confidence that grated on her nerves and made her wish she could disappear. But that grin was Herschel’s last straw. 

Songbird yelped in surprise as Herschel’s fist connected with his jaw, sending him staggering to the side with a low groan of pain. He ran his hand over his jaw, testing the joint for a moment before spitting blood on the sidewalk and standing back up to face him. Songbird’s stomach turned over and she bit her lip, she had come to know violence well enough to know when things were going to get scary. 

Herschel didn’t wait for the young man to retaliate, he moved faster than anyone would expect from someone of his size. He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and yanked him closer as he punched him again. The wet sound of the young man’s nose breaking was unnaturally loud but was immediately followed by the crack of his teeth breaking at the sharp impact of Herschel’s fist across the side of his face. 

It only took one more strike to the face to send him to the ground and he curled himself in a small ball as Herschel delivered a vicious kick to the stomach with the steel toe of his boot. He cried out again, blood and saliva dripping from his mouth as he wheezed around another kick to the stomach. Herschel brought his heel down on his ribs in a hard stomping motion and a loud crack filled the air. 

Her breath caught in her chest as Songbird watched the display of furious brutality. It only took one more swift kick to the ribs to leave the man gasping for air, arms clenched around his torso and dry heaving at the nausea inducing pain that accompanied the broken rib and shattered teeth. 

Songbird couldn’t watch any longer, the flat, packing sounds echoed in her mind and her chest tightened with anxiety. The need to be near Herschel overshadowed her rational thought and she practically threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around his chest and pressing her face to his back as a sob broke through her. 

Herschel froze. He stared down at the broken man at his feet and took her hand, holding it tight against his chest. He sighed but she felt the tension ripple through him, knew that he would need a moment to calm down and she knew that _she_ needed to get away from the situation as quickly as possible. 

“Herschel,” she whispered against his back and felt him soften at the breath of her voice. 

He spit on the man at his feet, took a final look at the damage he had done and turned to Songbird. She looked up at him, fear and worry bright in her brown eyes, and Herschel pressed a kiss to her temple. 

“Alright Songbird,” he said as he wrapped an arm around her shoulder and guided her towards the truck. She could hear the softness return to his voice as his accent lessened, hear the calm coming back to him. “Let’s get on home, you don’t need to be around trash like this anyway.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr! 
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


	17. Druxy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Word Prompt:  
> DRUXY - (of timber) having decayed spots beneath healthy wood.  
> Something that looks beautiful on the outside but is rotten on the inside

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CONTENT WARNING:  
> Lady whumpee, intimate whumper, trauma bonding, fucked up headspace, thinking about trauma, conditioning, stockholm syndrome (-ish, I kinda hate this term), messed up relationships, whumpee helping whumper, whumpee attached to whumper

Annie sat on the rusted metal stool and watched Herschel work patiently under the hood of the old car. She knew nothing about cars, she couldn’t tell the difference between a Ford and a Toyota other than the emblem on the grill, but he had mentioned something about it being a 1966 GTO and how rare it was before telling her to just sit down and relax while he worked. She obeyed without argument, making herself small and quiet so as not to draw his attention.

It almost felt normal, like what she imagined it would be like to spend time with a boyfriend (if her father had allowed her to date). But the heavy leather collar at her neck was a constant reminder of the reality of her situation, of the undertones of ownership regardless of how kindly he treated her when he was in his good moods. She touched it timidly, running her fingers over the _BC_ tooled into the leather, grateful for the extra hour he spent imprinting his initials in the dark brown collar rather than attaching a metal tag like his dog wore. It had been months since he had forced it around her throat, buckled and padlocked it with a terrifying finality, and Annie was surprised to realize that it was starting to feel like a comfort, like security. She was surprised to feel like as long as he kept the collar around her neck, he wanted her. And as long as he wanted her, she was safe. She was even more surprised to realize that she wanted him to want her, she wanted him to want to keep her. She wanted to stay safe under the blanket of security provided by his initials in the leather.

With a long sigh, Annie folded her hands back in her lap and looked up at Herschel. It was hard to ignore how broad his shoulders were, the strong, muscular shape of his arms and the bright colors and crisp lines of the tattoos that covered his skin. She looked at the motor oil that had crept up his hands and over his wrists, the deep black that stained his big, beautiful hands. His white cotton tee shirt was smudged with dirt, oil, and had the faint scent of gasoline that mingled with the sharp rubber smell of the new tires on the car. 

She swallowed against the collar, suddenly all too aware of how large he was compared to her, how much - in that moment - she wanted his hands to touch her as carefully and gently as he touched the antique engine. 

She flushed, heat racing over her skin as she shrank into herself. She felt insane even as her mind filled with lewd thoughts and desires she knew she’d never voice. She chastised herself at how foolish it was to set aside the awful things he had done to her, to forget the brutality his hands had inflicted on her. She screamed internally, forced herself to acknowledge that no matter how attractive she thought he was in these moments there was still a monster hiding beneath his masculine beauty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to request content, send prompts, or chat with me, feel free to comment or come see me on Tumblr!
> 
> [Simplygrimly](https://simplygrimly.tumblr.com/ask)


End file.
